#she does not give a single flying fuck

[sailboatclub]

i hate john mulaney but he was right delta airlines is a fucking nightmare

#hold on i have to tell this story here i just need to be heard #booking flights using an ecredit from 2020. from a flight that was supposed to be in MARCH 2020 #so you can understand why we got full credit back for it #anyway the delta website won’t let us use our ecredits online for some reason so we have to call. obviously this is a bad idea but it’s what #there is #we call. we say we’re trying to book with an ecredit. we give our ecredit numbers to the lady #the lady is silent for a long time. she comes back to say that there is basically no money on the credit due to change fees #‘basically no money?’ we say. ‘what does that mean?’ #she says the change fee is $200. unclear if this is per person or flight or both. #but there are two options if this is true: either there is still $163 on the credit (not fucking basically nothing) #OR we literally owe delta money from four years ago. somehow i don’t think that’s true. #we hang up and do some digging. we find the original cancellation email from 2020 that says in big bold letters ‘ALL FLIGHTS IN MARCH 2020 #WILL HAVE NO CHANGE FEES’ #we prepare to call back but i decide to check the website functionality one last time and somehow it actually works even though it has not #at all one single other time. I book the flights. my credit of almost $600 is applied. #idk if she just didn’t realize the og flights were from march 2020 but??? either way completely bs info was given #and money from four years ago isn’t real so these flights were basically free #no it still cost money bc flying is more expensive now than four years ago. but still #fuck you delta airlines for real #milk post

[helluvapoison]

Could I get Adam, Lute and Lucifer and how they 'court' the reader? Like how birds with court each other, little gifts, wing 'dances', nesting, etc...

Also, could I be your 🐌 anon? <3<3<3

Birds of a Feather

Adam, Lute and Lucifer courting you

ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ

˚✧₊⁎ Adam ⁎⁺˳✧༚

• Peacocking has nothing on The First Man

• His personality is amped up to the highest level when he sees you walk in a room

• (Overcompensation for how fucking nervous you make him)

• Adam gets cocky when he knows he has your attention

• Tossing grapes high in the air and catching them in his mouth, bragging louder than usual about something or the other

• Heaven forbid you laugh at any of his antics, (His smirk is dangerous, “Oh you like that?”) he’ll start singling you out in front of everyone, calling your name before he acts up

• Performances include inviting you to watch his band play and miraculously getting more energy

• Casually tosses guitar picks in your direction— and when he finds out you kept one!? He’s over the moon

• He won’t go out of his way to get you food but he’ll order you something if he goes somewhere

• Adam hates nesting. He doesn’t like being stressed in general and nesting is really fucking stressful!

• The very fact seeing you pricks the urge in him to nest drives him insane

• (AKA, he likes you a lot more than he thought he did!)

• Seeing you in his space does something he doesn’t particularly hate though

• “It’s whatever if you don’t like it.” Adam shrugs

• “No, I think it looks nice! Very you. Tell me about these pictures?”

• He’s fucking done for

˚✧₊⁎ Lute ⁎⁺˳✧༚

• Like they have a mind of their own, her wings stretch out and audibly fluff up when she makes eye contact with you

• Mortifying is an understatement

• She picks out trinkets to give to you at first, something small that could be waved off as insignificant

• Later, when Lute realizes her affections are returned, she brings useful offerings or something you offhandedly mentioned needing

• She wishes she could tell you about the exterminations solely to brag

• See how fierce she is, how skilled she is, how good of a protector she could be for you

• Lute will ask you to arm wrestle as a compromise. She gets to hold you hand and show off her strength!

• Nesting was fine, it was the judgment part that drove her up a wall

• Watching your eyes roam over her apartment, deciding whether or not it was good enough for you? Gah!

• “What, uh—“ Lute clears her throat, she’ll hate herself for even asking later, “What do you think?”

• You smile knowingly, something else that makes her absolutely mad, “It’s perfect.”

• Lute beams with pride like she’s won a great victory

˚✧₊⁎ Lucifer ⁎⁺˳✧༚

• Never before has he felt the need to actually flaunt.. anything?

• With you it hits him like a fucking train and it’s even harder to supress it

• He’s Lucifer! That’s supposed to be self explanatory, that’s supposed to be enough

• Suddenly he’s checking every mirror on his way to you, making sure he looks better than he feels

• He tries to find other ways to steal your attention or show that he would be a worthy partner

• …But showing off his wings couldn’t hurt, right? He has six after all. If you needed to get to the other side of town he’d be more than happy to fly you over!

• Nothings too good for you! If Lucifer thinks you’ll want or like something, he’s buying it!

• Did you notice he can make things too? He’ll make you something— or fix something for you!

• Quick, break that so he can show you he can fix it!

• Lucifer pulls all the stops trying to prove himself, nesting is no exception… he’s just not great at it

• He starts! However a little after beginning he realizes just how big his mansion is and gets overwhelmed so he closes all the doors and focuses his energy on the only room that matters; his

• “I mainly stay in here,” Lucifer explains while squishing a duck in his fist, watching you explore his room, “I cleaned it up for you! N-Not for you, not for that— I mean not that I’m opposed! I just meant so that you could, uh, see?”

• “I see why you like it, I’d never wanna leave.”

• You’re gonna kill him saying shit like that

~

╰(*´︶`*)╯♡ 🐌 CAN I GIVE YOU A KITH BECAUSE THIS WAS SO FUN!!!!!

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel imagine #hazbin hotel headcanons #lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer morningstar headcanon #lucifer morningstar imagine #hazbin hotel adam headcanon #hazbin hotel adam imagine #hazbin hotel adam x reader #lute headcanon #lute imagine #lute x reader

[am-i-interrupting]

Making Self Deprecating Jokes Around Them

For @aliceneedsphalis

Alastor

Before you got together, he’d chuckle at the jokes but as he started to care about you the laughter would begin to fade.

He’d begin to ask the question, “Who made you think of yourself this way?”

If you could give him the name of people, expect them to be gone when he “crosses paths” with them.

It’s completely unrelated to what you revealed, he promises.

No, no, he just happened to stumble upon them acting a fool and decided to set them straight is all.

It wasn’t until you got together that he started to refute your “jokes.”

The first time he gave a gentle flick to the back of your head, you turned to him gobsmacked.

“Why did you do that?!” “I have rules, my dear, and one of those is to not let the object of my affections talk bad about themselves.”

At some point, you just expect it.

On occasion, you’ll say something and expect it only to not get it.

“What are you doing?” “I’m waiting on you to flick the back of my head.” “Why is that? I do have a sense of humor.”

He’ll wait until you let your guard down and then flick your head as he walks by. It’s no fun if you know it’s coming.

He does try to build your confidence though.

Randomly he’ll pop into your room with a list, a list of all the negative things you’ve said about yourself.

He’ll hold you in front of a mirror and make you look at both yourself and him as he praises what you’ve unconsciously revealed you dislike.

He doesn’t hold back his amusement as he watches you squirm.

Husk

He lets you make the jokes even if he doesn’t like them.

He’s not going to laugh. He barely even reacts.

One day though, he’ll let slip how he feels.

“Do you really think it’s funny, hating yourself? Because I don’t. You cope however you need to. I’m not going to blame you for that but it hurts to see someone I care about so much treat themself so badly.”

He might team up with Charlie or Hell, even Rosie to try to figure out a way to change your coping though.

It’s not overt but more so an offering of different ways for you to cope instead. Giving you more options than the one you have even if you still fall to the crutch.

He’s not one who’s too much of a fan of PDA, much less words of affirmation in public.

In private though, he’s constantly building you up.

He whispers how beautiful, funny, insightful, and strong he thinks you are.

He’ll be half asleep and playing with your hair, watching it weave through his claws, as he looks at you with pupils so blown they take over all the color and go on about how lucky he is to have you.

Rosie

“Now why would ya say that about yourself, hon?” is what she asks the first time you make a joke of that kind.

She wants to help you get to the root of your problems.

She’s going to subtly break into your walls and get the damn to break that holds all the secrets to why you feel this way.

She may or may not give Alastor some names if she hears them.

She might get some kind of positivity train going.

One day you just get a bunch of letters and gifts from friends that explain how much they appreciate and care for you. When you wonder aloud if there’s any special occasion you missed, Rosie just shrugs.

She is a bragger by nature, I believe, but she’d take care to make sure you were in ear shot if she could when she starts bragging about you.

She wants you to know how much she truly cares and appreciates you.

She’ll let everyone else know in the process though.

Vox

This man did not give a single flying fuck about how you saw yourself until he started caring about you in an intimate way.

It’s not that it didn’t bother him before but it didn’t bother him enough for him to make time to do something about it.

He’s a busy man and he’s used to being surrounded by people (*cough cough* Valentino *cough cough*) who will talk his ears off about their problems that he doesn’t actually care about.

He’s not just going to make you spill why you see yourself the way you do without a good enough reason.

He might even laugh at some.

He is a nervous/uncomfortable laughs though so just because he laughs doesn’t mean he finds it funny.

Even when you start dating, he’s not going to ask you why. He’s just going to listen to you ramble about your life and death and out pieces together.

Certain people he looks for on his camera and they disappear.

Aside from singing your praises and showering you with gifts though, he doesn’t really know what to do.

#vox x reader #hazbin vox x reader #hazbin rosie x reader #rosie x reader #alastor x reader #hazbin alastor x reader #hazbin husk x reader #husk x reader

[promptfairy]

❥    𝐋𝐘𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐒 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐔𝐍𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐋 𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐏 𝐃𝐘𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐂𝐒    [   𝚂𝙴𝙽𝚃𝙴𝙽𝙲𝙴 𝚂𝚃𝙰𝚁𝚃𝙴𝚁𝚂    ]   .

designed for ships, but can be used for a variety of relationship types. change gendered language/add context to your needs. happy roleplaying !!  ♡

❛  it feels so good to be bad.  ❜ ❛  it really makes me wonder if i ever gave a fuck about you.  ❜ ❛  give me something to believe in.  ❜ ❛  i don’t believe in you anymore.  ❜ ❛  i wonder if it even makes a difference to try.  ❜ ❛  so, this is goodbye.  ❜ ❛  one day i’ll wake up & it won’t hurt anymore.  ❜ ❛  it’s like i can’t even feel after the way you touched me.  ❜ ❛  you’re everything that i want, but you don’t want me.  ❜ ❛  am i a regret, yet?  ❜ ❛  was it worth what it costed?  ❜ ❛  you make me nauseous.  ❜ ❛  you’re overrated.  ❜ ❛  when i think of you, i just want to throw up.  ❜ ❛  all my friends say that you’re toxic.  ❜ ❛  why does love suck?  ❜ ❛  love hurts whether it’s right or wrong.  ❜ ❛  i can’t stop, i’m having too much fun.  ❜ ❛  you can’t save me, baby.  ❜ ❛  you never call or listen to me anyway.  ❜ ❛  where were you tuesday, october tenth?  ❜ ❛  how is your jacket covered in blood?  ❜ ❛  how was the party? did you have fun?  ❜ ❛  i fell in love with the warning signs.  ❜ ❛  the only time i feel alive is when i’m touching the warning signs.  ❜ ❛  if you tell me to stay away, i’m gonna dive in again.  ❜ ❛  my favorite color is red like the flags you fly overhead.  ❜ ❛  well, i should have known.  ❜ ❛  didn’t you see it coming? didn’t you see the signs?  ❜ ❛  i’ll break your pretty face.  ❜ ❛  bite your tongue & choke yourself to sleep.  ❜ ❛  you can hold my hand if no one’s home.   ❜ ❛  do you like it when i’m away?  ❜ ❛  you’re a pond & i’m an ocean.  ❜ ❛  all my emotions feel like explosions when you are around.  ❜ ❛  i am a wreck when i’m without you.  ❜ ❛  was it something i said to make you feel like you’re a burden?  ❜ ❛  tell me, is it worth it?  ❜ ❛  she’s a lady & i am just a line without a hook.  ❜ ❛  do what you want as long as you stay here.  ❜ ❛  you’ll change your name or change your mind & leave this fucked up place behind, but i’ll know.  ❜ ❛  if you ever try to leave me, i’ll find you, [name].  ❜ ❛  i’ll be the bad guy, now.  ❜ ❛  i couldn’t be there, even when i tried.  ❜ ❛  seasons changed & our love went cold.  ❜ ❛  i knew that this was doomed from the get-go.  ❜ ❛  you thought that it was special, but it was just the sex, though.  ❜ ❛  it’s only me; what have you got to lose?  ❜ ❛  you should take it as a compliment that i got drunk & made fun of the way you talk.  ❜ ❛  you should think about the consequence of your magnetic field being a little too strong.  ❜ ❛  you’re so cool, it makes me hate you so much.  ❜ ❛  you’ve ruined my life by not being mine.  ❜ ❛  you’re so gorgeous, i can’t say anything to your face. ’cause look at your face.  ❜ ❛  i’m so furious at you for making me feel this way.  ❜ ❛  if you’ve got a girlfriend, i’m jealous of her. but if you’re single, that’s honestly worse.  ❜ ❛  you’re so gorgeous, it actually hurts.  ❜ ❛  you make me so happy, it turns back to sad.  ❜ ❛  there’s nothing i hate more than what i can’t have.  ❜ ❛  guess i’ll just stumble on home to my cats. alone … unless you wanna come along?  ❜ ❛  you look so happy when i’m not with you.  ❜ ❛  i don’t know why i run away.  ❜ ❛  take me back, ’cause i wanna stay.  ❜ ❛  i kept my distance ’cause i know that you don’t like when i’m with somebody else.  ❜ ❛  i couldn’t help it; i put you through hell.  ❜ ❛  i realize that it’s much too late, & you deserve someone better.  ❜ ❛  i’m not the best at breaking up.  ❜ ❛  i like my alone time, but i want somebody to hold.  ❜ ❛  i get what i want. i keep it for a minute. then i let it go.  ❜ ❛  i hate it when you’re there for me, but i like it when you hit the spot.  ❜ ❛  i don’t do fake love, but i’ll take some from you tonight.  ❜ ❛  i don’t expect you to understand.  ❜ ❛  i’m ready to die holding your hand.  ❜ ❛  i can’t hide how i feel about you inside.  ❜ ❛  i’d give everything up tonight, if i could just have you be mine.  ❜ ❛  i’d give up everything for you.  ❜

#sentence starters #sentence meme #rp starters #rp meme #rp prompts #roleplay meme #roleplay starters #roleplay prompts #small text is no longer a thing on this blog bc tumblr makes it impossible to format long lists like this with the stupid #character limit rule so enjoy this normal sized text <3

[dudethatsmyundeaduncle]

DP X DC AU Danny & The Little Dead Girl

(title pending lol, Danny and Curare adventures pt 2!) Pt 1 here My AU art

__________________________________________

Monday comes, as it is won't to do, and Danny has to go to school which means the baby halfa has to come to school too.

" ok, so, one rule for today, big rule, you gotta be quiet in class. Uh-"

Danny pulls his phone out of his pocket as their bus hits a pot hole. Sitting right at the front means they catch the momentum first and he has to hold Curaré against his side lest she go flying into the aisle.

A couple voices grumble behind them at the jostling as Danny gets his text to speech open.

" Necessitas ser quieto en clase. ¿Entiendes?" The Google robot lady voice translates for him.

Curaré blinks at him from behind her little paper face mask and looks from the phone to him curiously.

This is the game they've been playing since last night, Danny says something in English robo lady repeats it in Spanish.

Danny doesn't know if Curaré understands how the phone speaks or even that it does but she's giving him her favorite little blank expression so he assumes she gets it. At least, she hasn't really disagreed or disobeyed anything he's asked of her yet so...not gonna look that gift horse in the mouth Danny boy!

..

School goes well, mostly.

They get through the metal detectors and bag checks at the front entrance just fine. The security guards barely glance at Curaré once they confirm she isn't hiding a Glock or something under her shirt. Which it's kinda sad to know gun control is a cross-dimensional American problem but it's on brand if nothing else Danny thinks.

They get to first period without stopping at Danny's locker and settle down in two desks by the back door. This is Danny's usual spot, well usual as of a month ago, it's mostly empty back here now but Danny used to have a seat partner.

(A seat partner who had a kind of shady tweaker vibe that Danny would have been worried about but that kid went home early one day and never came back so....it's Curaré's seat now.)

The little dead girl looks even littler sat in the desk-chair combo, she can barely see over the top. Danny stacks three dictionaries under her for a boost then he gets her set up with some pencils and paper and the single highlighter he found on the floor his first day here.

Curaré seems vaguely interested in his offerings ,after Danny shows her how to use them to mark the page, and starts creating cautious marks of her own.

She keeps glancing back up at Danny as if to confirm that this is still fine? And he nods his head every time trying to be encouraging as it becomes obvious that nobody taught this kid to write inside Fosters Home for Real life Assassins. Which Danny thinks is poor planning on there part because really? If your Assassin can't write how the fuck were they supposed to leave ominous threatening warnings? Or fake suicide notes? Or any number of written props to flesh out a cover story.

Whatever, obviously the assassins raising Curaré sucked ass all around so he can't say he's surprised but he is majorly disappointed.

As the bell rings for first period a whole slew of teens rush in ahead of the teacher Mr. Berk. Simple guy, grey beard, coke bottle glasses, smells like Vics vapor rub, the works.

He's like the most chilled out version of Mr. Lancer ever so he's alright in Danny's books. Plus he only has one "rule", as long as your butt is in your seat by the time he calls your name for attendance he won't mark you late. In Gotham, where everyone and their brother has enough late marks from shitty public transportion to get detention, it's a pretty sweet rule.

So Mr. Berk takes attendance like usual and only pauses on Danny and Curaré in the back for a brief moment.

Curaré stops drawing and stares down Mr. Berk like he's the T rex from Jurassic park. Frozen in place and without breaking eye contact. He stares back at her completely unphased.

" A small visitor then?" He says.

Danny nods. " My sister"

" Mhm" Mr. Berk says already moving on to the next student on his roster.

Danny breathes out huge sigh of relief, that was so much easier then he expected.

They more or less repeat this exchange the whole day. Mondays suck ass because it's one of the only days Danny actually has all 6 periods, but they make it through 1st, 2nd, and nutrition unscathed.

By lunch time Danny thinks they might actually be home free, if no one is gonna bring up the whole freaking child tagging along with him then he can probably just bring her with him everyday.

Maybe he can find her some work books and she can learn the alphabet? And addition? That's like on track for 4 year olds right? Danny can't remember being 4 but that feels right to him. He will educate the child in his care like the responsible almost adult he is. She will go to college!

At lunch Danny sits them at the back of the school right next to the teachers lounge because it's mostly deserted.

In Danny's exprience the best place to hide is in plain sight. He's been sitting here everyday since he enrolled himself and the teachers have never noticed him. Their way too busy trying to get any kind of break from teaching high schoolers to be concerned.Which Danny is greatful for because he has broken the rule about using his cell phone at lunch 50 times at this point.

Listen he has to do universe research when he has access to wifi! Which he only does at school. The administration should be glad he's using his lunch period to educate himself really.

So they eat by the lounge. Danny has Curaré face away from the door so she can take off her face mask and eat unencumbered.The cut on her face is still gnarly, it looks an almost enflamed purple as it tries it's best to heal.

Danny had given Curaré a little immuno-boost with his own ecto the night before to try to speed up her healing factor. But like any Halfa, basically just Danny's personal experience, you have to nourish the ghost half and the human half in equal parts to heal all the way.

It's not until home room, period 6/7, that the metaphorical straw breaks the metaphorical camels back. or the real straw to the metaphorical camel? Did camels even carry straw? where would it go? Between there humps? Not important Fenton!

Home room was a grade A disaster.

Mr. Perez, Danny's kind of ancient home room teacher, who was for almost all intents and purposes blind, had a freaking nose for trouble. It's like he could sniff out vapes and cell phones as soon as they hit the stale class air. Danny thought this would be the easiest class by far, Mr. Perez wouldn't even see Curaré let alone smell her.

And at first it seems like he doesnt, Mr. Perez takes attendance and skips right over Danny and Curaré with no fanfare.

Danny thinks that's the end of it and starts to breathe easy until 15 minutes before the final bell when Mr. Perez' TA asks him to step into the hallway with her for a second.

Danny generally liked Mr. Perez's TA, her name was Sabrina Kahn and she was the kind of girl Jazz would have hung out with.Straight laced, wore argyle cardigans, read books, the smart sort. She looked Jazz's age too, maybe 21ish and she always rolled her eyes when people gave dumb answers in class.

She looks a little embarrassed to be speaking to Danny which immediately sets him on edge.

" It's okay that you brought your little sister today but, I'm sorry, you won't be able to do that again. A bunch of your teachers made complaints with the front office and Mr. Perez got a call about it ..."

Sabrina had always been nice to him and now she was about to ruin his whole week.

" But Ms. Kahn-" Danny started.

She gave him a sympathetic look " Lemme guess, your parents can't take her to work so this was the next best option?"

Danny closed his mouth and nodded, that was actually a much better lie then he was gonna tell, thank you Ms. Kahn. ( But also Boooooo curse you Ms. Kahn!)

" Here, I know it can be hard to find childcare for metas, especially ones as ah-vibrant as your sister. My brother had the same trouble with my nephew."

Sabrina hands Danny a flyer, it's still warm from the printer, it looks like it's just a screenshot of an email.

"Thanks?"

The TA rolls her eyes, wow a lot like Jazz then.

" It's the address to that daycare and a referral. They only take kids by word of mouth, they're kind of... off the books. But their good people! I hope they can help you Danny."

The paper is on off yellow, as Ms.Kahn heads back into homeroom Danny feels all his hope go with her. Shit, what was he gonna do now? He looks through the little glass window in the door to the back where Curaré sits, she's already watching him. He tries to smile at her, be reassuring, he's not sure it works.

......

When the bell finally rings Danny picks Curaré up and puts her on his hip to avoid her being crushed by the rush of high schoolers who stampede out the door in front of them.

The flyer from Ms. Kahn feels like it's burning a hole through his pocket as they ride the bus towards the Narrows.

Danny cased the house from the flyer with maps street view as well as he could. It showed a skinny sublet house across from a small strip mall and laundrymat.

Inconspicuous sure, maybe even innocent looking but well...you could never tell in Gotham, all the buildings looked sort of evil by default. It was probably because of the gargoyles and the general low level stink fog that seemed to always be out.

The big city™ really made Danny miss the suburbs of Amity Park more then just the regular gut wrenching home sickness. Oh what'd he'd give to take a deep breath of air and not inhale the smell of piss when he walked down the street.

They get off the bus at the corner a block from the daycare.

Danny holds Curaré's hand which makes for slow going but seems like the right thing to do. She's never wandered off but Danny didn't want to give her the opportunity to either.

As he helped her climb the three short stairs up to the house Danny was suddenly hit with a wave of panic.

What the fuck am I doing? Am I really gonna take care of this freaking Halfa ghost baby for the next 18 years? Im not even an adult! I work weekends at BatBurger for minimum wage WTF?

Danny's hands began to sweat and his stomach cramped. Oh fuck, here was the existential crisis he'd been waiting for since he first decided to take Curaré from the leagues super secret baby basement.

Oh shit he couldn't breathe, what was he gonna do! OH fuck think!

What would jazz do? Call child services and offer psychological support. Not Uber helpful in this case Danny didn't know the first thing about psychology and Gotham CPS was actual prison.

What would Sam do? Assassin babies are hella counter culture but maybe find a cool rich eccentric family to adopt them? Nope, not gonna work Danny only knew one eccentric rich girl and she was a whole dimension away. FUCK THINK FENTON!

What would Tucker do? In this situation ask Google, homeschooling is big these days so maybe if you leave her in the apartment while your gone with an iPad-

" Hey you alright there dude, can I help you?"

Danny choked on the end of his anxiety panic badbadbad spiral and looked up.

The front door to the house was open and just inside the threshold stood a younger teen, maybe 16? With the kind of fade haircut Tucker always whined he couldn't pull off and a bright yellow hoodie.

Danny held his breathe for a moment making sure he felt it burn up his lungs and throat before letting out a big sigh.

" Yeah, yeah sorry kinda zoned out there I'm just uh kinda nervous I was told to come here for Daycare help for my little sister?"

Curaré looked at the stranger in the doorway with the same wide eyed blankness she stared at everything with. Funnily enough she was still holding Danny's hand, had held on through Danny's entire mental meltdown too despite the ecto sweat. Danny felt oddly touched by the gesture, even if it was more likely that the little girl wasn't bothered by his crisis then her being sympathetic.

The teen in the Yellow Hoodie raised an eyebrow at Danny as he fumbled the paper from Ms. Kahn out of his pocket to hand over.

Yellow Hoodie took it and looked between it, him, and Curaré.

" You're not a cop right? You have to tell us if you're a cop"

Danny made a face, " no, I'm not a cop! I would never be a cop, cops suck."

" Right." Yellow Hoodie said still suspicious " So you wouldn't mind if I called your referral up?"

" Be my guest dude."

The teen pulled out his phone and made sure to keep steady eye contact with Danny. Who could do nothing except not look away during this, the world's most impromptu staring contest, until Yellow Hoodie put his phone away.

" Just wanted to see if you were bluffing. Sabrina called earlier said she'd sent someone our way but you can never be too careful. Come on in. "

Danny felt the wind go out of his sails for the second time that day, what was with people and making him anticipate the worst.

.....

The inside of the house was old, homey, but old. It had very obviously been well lived in by a few generations of children, easy to see from the scuffed floors, chipped crown molding, and the sheer number of framed photos that hung on the walls.

There were signs of new life about too, some toys scattered on the floor, walls that were covered in butcher paper and crayon as high as little hands could reach, and oddly enough some scorch marks. Although, Danny's supposed that an unlicensed daycare for meta kids worth it's salt ought to have a least a few burn marks. For posterity if nothing else.

" I'm Duke, I volunteer here when I can but the place is run by the Mariscos, Mrs. Marisco specifically. She's been in the game for a long time" Duke nee yellow hoodie said as he stopped them in front of a closed door.

The hand made sign on the door said Office in nice scribbly lettering and it was hung on with a peg and twine. Real kitschy.

Danny could just make out the sounds of kids playing in another part of the house and was a little impressed that Duke had managed to keep Danny from seeing even one tiny tot during the impromptu house tour.

" I gotta go help Izzy with the kids, this is Mrs.Mariscos' office just knock before you go in, she might be on the phone."

Duke nodded to Danny, smiled down at Curaré and disappeared down the hallway.

Leaving Danny and Curaré alone in front of a closed door once again.

Danny looked down at Curaré and she looked up at him, she was characteristically silent.

" This feels like a job interview, did you bring your resume? "

Curaré blinked.

" Yeah, me neither. But I think if we both give her puppy eyes maybe our combined under aged-ness will activate her maternal instincts and she'll be forced to accept us?"

The nerves were back, they had never really left but now they had settled like a rock at the pit of Danny's stomach.

He couldn't bring himself to knock on that office door just yet so he fussed over Curaré instead. Kneeling down he straightened the collar of Curaré's hooded jacket and moveed her little backpack strap back up her shoulder where it had slipped.

" We got this. It's you and me now remember, even if this blows and you have to come to school with me for the rest of year it's you and me." Danny rested his hands on little shoulders and hung his head. " Jeez, I sound like my mom"

"No need to be so nervous Mijo! My Chiqis never met a kid she could turn away."

Danny's neck had never snapped up so fast in his life.

Curaré hadn't been looking up at him at all. No, Curaré was staring up towards the elderly woman floating near the ceiling.

Which was not great, because Danny for all the time had spent in Gotham had never seen another ghost. Not a single one.

Which was unsettling on its own but not bad per se, he'd thought maybe this dimension was just different, not enough spectral energy to manifest a ghostly body.

But no, again nope, this was so much worse.

No ghosts was easy enough to reationalize but one ghost? One ghost meant there was enough spectral energy, one ghost meant something was really really wrong with Gotham.

Because if there was only one ghost in a crime ridden pissed off city like this where the shit were all the others?

--------------------------------------------------

Yo! Just wanted to say thank u for all the support on part 1, did not expect people to like or care about it lol. Anyway back on bullshit, I've had this written for a while but didn't have the insp to post it until now.

Might write more, might not, you get one bat cameo for reading this time ur welcome.

Forgot to add this to the first post, it's in the reblogs, but TLDR Curaré is an assassin from batman beyond.

Note: if you wanna see cool art for this AU check the Danny and the little dead girl tag on my blog!

#danny phantom #danny fenton #dp x dc au #dpxdc #dc x dp #DP x DC #batman #Curaré #batman beyond #duke thomas #danny and the little deadgirl au #i really gotta think of a name for this AU if its gonna be a thing #do i have a plan for this? no no i do not #i have a vague idea about what happens in this universe and no real motivation to write it #batfam

[thevirgincherry]

AND I LOVE HER !

ft. leon s. kennedy x fem!reader

tags. omg.. fluff and that’s it im sick, age gap, like brief mentions to sex idk, slight angst

note. don’t know what happened to me! ignore typos/mistakes this isn’t edited :3 rbs n feedback always appreciated omg im embarrassed ngl this is just leon feeling guilty as always

“Okay, and so we get bored, right?” You tell him, perched on the bathroom counter, peeling back your false lashes to reveal– you guessed it, your natural layer of lashes which look identical to the fake pair. “Like, there wasn’t a lot to do, I mean it was snowing, we couldn’t leave campus, we couldn’t even leave her bedroom, right?” Leon gives an Mhm to show you he’s listening and totally not dozing off to the sound of your voice. Sorry, babe, sometimes it just puts him to sleep. The same way white noise does. “We go on Bumble - you know what that is, right?”

“Oh, yeah, obviously,” Leon scoffs, when in fact he doesn't know what that is.

“So, yeah, we're swiping, swiping, not a single right, right?” Another Mhm from his side, you’re using a cotton bud to remove your eye makeup, the black smears and becomes streaky on your skin. Cute, that’s how you look after a nice, hard fucking. His mind wanders far away to the sanctum that is his bedroom, the room on the opposite side of the hall. “And so Ashley, you remember her, right?”

“Rings a bell,” It rings no bells, not a single one, the only Ashley he knows is ex-First Daughter Ashley Graham. “The short one?” All your friends are short, he makes a purposely vague guess to hide his disinterest. Leon would put more into this conversation if he wasn’t five seconds away from conking out on the closed toilet seat.

“Yeah, that one, her fucking boyfriend pops up!”

“From where?” He asks, genuinely concerned for your wellbeing, was the freak hiding out in his girlfriend’s dorm room, under the bed of some shit?

“On Bumble?” You shoot him an odd look through the mirror, “Anyway, his profile says some shit about an open relationship, that his girlfriend wants a threesome, like, all this shit.”

“That’s awful.” He gets the gist, the dude is a cheater, still has no clue what a Bumble is.

“I know, and he’s ugly, that’s the worst part, she’s out of his league.” You hop off the counter, running the tap to wash your face in that ritualistic manner. Scrub, splash, wipe. Shit’s obsessive, Leon’s only ever ran his wet hands over his face, uses his thumbs to get the gunk out the corner of his eyes. “She was totally upset,” You say, lathering your face in foam, “She wouldn’t stop crying, and don’t, like, tell her or anything, babe,” You rub circles on your cheeks, the soap bubbles up, the tap has been running five minutes too long.

“Wasn’t planning on it, babe.” Leon tips his head back to soothe the tension in his neck, when you cup your hands and splash water into your face, droplets splatter on the counter.

“Good, well, to tell you the truth, she was pissing me off,” A few more minutes of what looks more like a facial massage than a wash and you’re done, “Like, he was never even nice to her, he made her pay for dates, and she was really crying hard, Leon, like, snot and everything.”

“Lousy guy.”

“Yeah, and so we find a place that’s open on the map, like, a convenience store, I mean it was like gas and groceries, but it was so fucking shady, babe,” You pat your face dry with a towel, hanging it up on the rack, “And, like, we try to get an Uber, or like literally any cab at this point, but no one wants to drive in that weather, you saw what kinda clothes I took too!”

Oh, Leon did, and he did the right thing and warned you that tie-up tops and mini skirts so mini they could be classified as belts would do nothing for you. Well, they do everything for your figure, but nothing against the least windy of winds. Like a shaky orange leaf clinging to the weary branches of an autumn tree, those scraps of Lycra would go flying, leaving you topless and bottomless and defenceless without a Leon to take care of your sorry ass.

“So, I’m like so sure I’ve got frostbite as we’re walking, but it’s five minutes away, we keep going, none of us had an ID by the way, not even a real one,” The second part of your routine involves applying lotion so thickly, it secretes enough palm oil to give back to those Amazonian orangutans, solving the deforestation issue one nighttime routine at a time.

“Babe,” Leon says in the tone of a disappointed and slightly exasperated father who wants nothing but the best for his daughter while being emotionally distant all at once, because he just has that kind of voice, “You can’t be doing that, it’s dangerous, could get in a lot of trouble, and it’s bad for you, y’know?” His liver cries out in disbelief as it has been subjugated completely by his alcoholism, “You don’t need drinks to have fun, you just need your friends.” His words pass through you. Leon has changed the world through his Special Agent status, he’s saved it time and time again, what he has not done is change your world like he suspected he would with that half-assed motivational speech.

“So, Ashley, the bitch, she shoves me in front, and all the girls are like oh, you go up, you look soo much older than us, which is so fucking rude. Like, I know I look it, everyone says it to me, doesn’t mean she should say it. So, I go up, and babe - I swear to god, he doesn’t even ask, like, he just kinda looked at my tits and scanned the bottles.” You use your hands a lot when you speak.

He blinks at you bare-faced, and it all comes falling down, on top of him like gigantic Jenga blocks that he himself misplaced. “You’re a baby,” Leon tells you. Not in the way most older men do when they talk down to young girls - to make them feel like even younger girls. It’s not to put you in your place, after all, it is Leon that needs to be put in his place more than anyone. He says this with the utmost sincerity as he spirals head-first into a frantic epiphany of sorts. He’s fucking a baby. A baby with a heart-shaped ass and a penchant for clothes that cover a single nipple at best.

“No, I’m not a baby, I’m just not old,” There’s a lack of hardened lines on your face, not quite baby-faced, but visibly young.

“Yeah, okay, baby,” Leon pats your head, rolls his shoulders back to relieve him of an ache, “I’m going to bed.”

“So am I.” Your lips jut out, “I was going there first actually.” Holy Mother of God, you’re a kid. Don’t do this to him. Usually, Leon likes his women menopausal, Norman Bates would agree, that’s insensitive, rather Mrs Bates would agree. It’s just that when you’re forty-six, fucking older women goes into grandma territories. Women his age are beautiful, but half of them settled down over ten years back, the available ones are career women that keep him on his toes, and he doesn’t like that. Being kept on his toes is too much, his back hurts and he wants to rest. The other half come with kids, Leon would rather scoop out his brain with a tea spoon than come into close contact with a child. The appeal wears off either way because Leon wants them to be older than him, but he’s not twenty anymore so the older women won’t be forty and stern and beautiful in the way worn out housewives are, they’ll be sixty and senile.

“Were you now?” He keeps the bile down in his stomach where it should be, takes you to bed, fucks you into the mattress one last time, kisses the mole between your breasts and leaves the following morning. What drug was he on the night he met you? Leon doesn’t know, and he doesn’t know if he’s still on it, or if dating younger women is a side effect of it.

The car windows are frosted over when he makes his way out without a de-icer in hand, it melts slowly as he sits in the driver's seat with his head bowed, drooped on top of the wheel. Leon pats himself down, feeling for his keys, he gets out, into the elevator and returns to face the front door. He slots his key into the lock and enters the apartment because it is his apartment, not yours. He’s so used to walking out on people that he walked out of his own home. Selfish tendencies that surely stem from some fucked up part of his brain.

“Leon?” You’re stood there in the doorway rubbing your eyes, “Did you go out?”

“Yeah, babe,” He grunts when you take your seat on his lap, the weight is pleasant, grounds him, “I went out, just for a minute, had to take a call, didn’t wanna wake you.”

“I woke up the minute you got out of bed.” The softness of your skin on his is dizzying, sleep-swollen lips coming to kiss his scruffy face with all the tenderness of a young adult woman, that’s a lot of tenderness, they feel a lot. Heart might not be on your sleeve, but it leaks out of you in the most insignificant moments, it’s in every single word you say to him. “You’re not very quiet, Leon. I don’t know who hired you, they should reconsider.”

Smiling, he cradles your close, takes your tit in his hand. Love is stored in these things. That’s why your heart is in the left one, not on your sleeve. “Was I that loud?”

“Yeah, I heard you stub your toe, and you were like fuck, fuck, fuck! for a good minute,” You recount, “And then I heard you talking to yourself in the bathroom, and you were brushing your teeth, you kept making those gross gagging noises, my dad does that too.”

“Trying to get it all out.” Leon shrugs, his chin rests atop your head.

“Get what out? Your uvula?”

“No, stupid, just, I don’t know, stop asking questions.”

“Okay, whatever, and then you walked out still talking to yourself, and then you were looking for your keys, moving furniture,” That he was, “Sounds like you scraped up the floors,” That he did, “Then you found them and they kept fucking jingling, then you shut the door really quietly, and I was like where is this loser going. Hey, Leon, you know I can see your car from here, right?”

You’d seen him. Seen him throw a sulky manchild tantrum in his car. How embarrassing. “If I’m being honest, I didn’t know that.” He admits.

“Well, I saw you sitting in there, I know you didn’t go to the store, I know you’re lying to me, but it’s okay,” You kiss his Adam’s apple, your nose tucked into his neck, “I know you didn’t mean it.”

“I didn’t— I didn’t mean it,” Leon confirms, he holds you tighter to him and thinks that you're more mature than he’ll ever be. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” It comes easily to you, and he wishes to do the same, “You can talk to me instead of, like, trying to drive away from your own apartment, that’s pretty weird, Leon.”

“I know, I’ll talk to you,” He won’t, and you know that, and he knows you know that, but it’s okay, it takes time for this sort of stuff, “I love you,” Leon says again, his lips meet yours, swallows up the response on your tongue, he eats your love.

#leon s kennedy x you #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy imagine #leon s kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x reader #resident evil x reader #resident evil fluff #leon kennedy fluff #leon s kennedy fluff

[notroosterbradshaw]

about: just some smut to fend off jetlag. i love sleepy Bradley, I make no excuses that I feel he does his best work in the early hours of the day. This was supposed to be a drabble… it’s not anymore. Sorry.

word count: 3.2k

warnings: nsfw 18+, language, pure fluff, smut.

masterlist.

The morning after the night before when Bradley met your family for the first time, you'd flown across the world to surprise your dad for his birthday and really, it luckily coincided with Bradley's time off. When you mentioned heading home for your old man's special day that usually kicked off your family's holiday season, you almost fell out of your seat when he said maybe it was time he met the fam face-to-face, not just making small talk over FaceTime. It almost didn’t seem fair that he was subjected to meeting everyone this way, but alas… here you were the next morning, jet lag kicking in while wrapped protectively in Bradley’s strong, golden arms and washed in the relief your family fucking loved him. You weren't overly surprised. 

Bradley's quiet, unassuming charm was just who your mum wanted you to end up with, he was into golf and surfing, so your dad and brothers thought he was the bee's knees. Your sister on the other hand... 

You had to fend her off more than you would have liked. You were confident in your relationship with Bradley, knowing he'd never allow anything to happen. "You're coming across a little desperate," you hissed after one or two drinks, which mortified her, and she apologised, admitting she was just happy to finally get to meet the guy who'd swept you off your feet. "Yes, my feet," you reminded her. When she pointed out how possessive you sounded, you didn't deny it. But she got it and gave you space for the rest of the evening. 

Ahh, sisters. 

Bradley felt your body writhe in the gentlest of movements against his and he sighed. Sleep hadn’t come easy for either of you and compounded with the food and booze you’d indulged in the day before, neither of you slept much. “You okay, sweetheart?” he whispered at God-knows-what-o’clock. 

“What time is it?” You asked softly.

“I dunno, baby. Sun is barely rising,” he admitted. “Can’t hear a peep in the house.”

Which was nice because yesterday was intense. Everyone was so excited to meet your new American boyfriend (fairly, it’d been about eight months, give or take with a few deployments), the incredibly handsome navy pilot whom you’d met one evening at a naval bar while travelling. You’d caught his eyes behind his sunglasses while he played the piano, the crowd around him as swept away with him as you were. The first half-smile in your direction, as he sang, had done you over in a way not one single person on the planet had before. 

He'd charmed you instantly. He still charmed you constantly. 

“Did you get any sleep?” you asked, biting back a yawn.

“Not really,” he peppered tender kisses into your shoulder blade and smiled into your skin as you pressed back into him, the oh-so-quiet moan made for his ears only waking him from his dreaded fog as well. “I’ll try and get a kip somewhere today. That fuckin’ flight murdered me.” 

“You were happy to fly economy,” you muttered. “I know you’re used to tight quarters, but fuck Bradley. It was 15 hours." 

“I know, I know I fucked up. I was looking at upgrades overnight. I’ll use my discount and stuff; we can do it flying home.”

“You sure?”

“Sue me for wanting to save a buck,” he sighed, with a tired, deep chuckle. “Flight was so full; people may as well have been sitting on the wings.”

“It’s Christmas. People travel.”

“You don't say,” he affectionately gripped your waist, rolling you to him and kissed you. “Good morning, I think," he nuzzled your nose against his and asked if you wanted some water or anything.

You shook your head, rolling back and snuggling into him as he adjusted his arms around you again, his nose buried in your hair. "I think Dad is gonna expect you for at least nine holes today." 

"I think so, yeah. Grill me and make sure I'm good enough for his little girl.” He murmured and if he was honest, he was the teeniest bit nervous. He’d never really been in relationships long enough to meet families… and who would he introduce anyone to, except for Mav?

"I think you'll be fine."

"He probably wouldn't be if he knew what a deviant I've turned his smart, beautiful baby girl into.”

You giggled quietly as you could feel the soft ends of his moustache curve into a smirk against the nape of your neck. "He'd send you back on the first flight to LA."

"I would believe that," he said softly. 

"I think yesterday went really well, Bradley," you confided quietly to him.

"You think? I was on my very best behaviour," he teased you.

"Yes, you were," you admitted. Not that he ever wasn't. Bradley was instilled with a remarkable set of manners. He was chivalrous and courteous to a fault, incredibly sweet and at times, pensive, even shy. Almost make believe that you were lucky enough to share his time. You wriggled back against him, and you could feel the hard-on straining through his boxer briefs. "Down, boy." 

"Can't help it," he sighed. "You know what you do to me with that ass. I know what you want. You're not that transparent."

You bit back your pleased smile as his wandering hands travelled down your side, fingertips toying with the hem of his old Navy tee that was now your bed shirt. At home, you were nude sleepers. At your parents' home during the holidays? You showed decorum and respect and you both hated it, preferring skin-on-skin of the other but alas, anyone could walk in at any time. 

“Have a thought about how we might be able to fuck this jetlag off…” 

“Oh, yeah?” at this point, you’d do anything and with Bradley’s travel for work, you hoped maybe he might have some insight. You had planned to just power through and try not to be the world’s most exhausted asshole. 

"You just move your thigh a little this way..." he murmured, his palm cupping your hamstring and you pressed back into him, grinning softly. “And I just slide up in here – ”

“Confident of you, don’t you think?”

“You’re always wet for me,” he whispered against your skin. “Unless you deny it.”

“Never…” you told him, reaching back to wrap an arm around his strong neck. “I just can't keep it down with you. Why didn’t you convince me to get the AirBnb?”

He loved how vocal you were during sex. Your moans, the hisses, the way you'd bite your lip when you were so close. That groan as you came, or the little squeal when you were too sensitive was burned into his brain as his favourite sounds in the world. 

"Just lemme hold you then, it's okay, sweetheart," he grumbled. “I’ll live if you can.” 

“Asshole,” you muttered as he chuckled. 

“Do you want a blowjob?” You nervously offered, turning back to him and he looped your thigh over his hip and perched you above him with such little effort on his behalf - you loved how strong he was but you knew what was waiting for you, Bradley made no secret he was turned on and you loved that you were able to have him on a knife-edge at all times. 

The one per cent, he’s told you once before. 

You’re so sweet to him as you slowly dragged your hand into the waistband of his boxer briefs, revealing more and more skin, cock springing free, slapping against his toned, tanned Adonis belt. Long, thick and dripping with precum already and he almost blushed at how eager he was.

“I’ll never say no,” he replied, “And I know you might be uncomfortable here. Your dad is right across the hall, baby."

“But my daddy is right here…” you immediately corrected him, and he smiled darkly to himself. You didn't use that term lightly, you couldn’t nfi fed to him he had the ability to bring out your innermost feral when you least expected it and he would do his utmost to encourage it (if you were comfortable). 

“Jesus,” his head was swirling, trying to keep calm and not blow his load the second you bared your tongue to him but there was absolutely nothing sweet about it. He was a preening mess when you went down on him. The night you'd told him you weren't overly experienced in blow jobs was the greatest night of his life, coaching you through what he liked and watching you perfect your generous technique time and time again. 

These days, you loved giving Bradley head. He gave you confidence, he made you feel sexy and not like it was only about him on the receiving end. He’s whispered and encouraged, and when it all got too much, he told you he was close. He was neither here nor there on the whole spit or swallow thing… until you and your preference but he was never left empty-handed.

"Shh," you hissed. "Not a sound." 

That one thing you did for him that absolutely made him come undone. And he'd bury his face in your pussy all day if you allowed him to show you how fucking grateful, he was for all the pleasure you presented him. Your sweet, tight wetness that he would eagerly drown himself in if you’d let him. 

Your honeyed tongue delicately tasted the flawless head of his cock, lapping up the precum as Bradley's eyes rolled back into his head and his big hands reached to knot into your hair as you went to work, swirling your tongue and looking up with your big, scheming eyes, knowing you had him at his most precarious. 

He was a weapon in his training, his mind and body were always primed to do what was asked of him, but you were the exception and it scared and excited him.

He could feel himself getting so close to painting the back of that beautiful mouth, and while it pained him to say it, the way your eyes softened told him he’d made the right choice. “Come on, baby, I want you.” 

You gently pulled away and asked, “You don’t want me to finish?”

“No, I wanna fuck, baby. Watch you lose control.” 

“Okay,” you said, your soft hand trading with your warm mouth to tenderly pump and tease him. 

“Gimme a sec. I don't have condoms close,” he whispered. “They're in my luggage.”

"Just pull out, sweetheart," you enticed him, wanting to feel all of him. It was so infrequent you fucked without protection, and of course, you both preferred it that way but after a pregnancy scare (or not, neither of you was really sure) a few months back, you'd both decided to stop tempting fate and ensuring there was a stash of condoms at his place, your place... the goddamn Bronco – Bradley understood that it was your body and you didn’t want to be on the pill. A condom was the least he could do, and he knew it. 

Bradley helped you move up his body and rest you above him. "Are you sure?" he kissed you, your gleaming teeth lightly stinging into his bottom lip with an affectionate nip. 

“I trust you,” you told him. "Cum where you need...”

Truth be told, he wanted to cum deep, but he licked back a wet smile and he moved to his knees to pull his navy tee over your head, bearing your beautiful breasts to him, full, round, nipples begging for attention. “On your back, baby,” he urged, guiding you under him, anticipating how wet you were for him, legs splaying open unashamed. He rested the head of his cock on your weeping cunt, his fingers spreading your bare lips and sweeping your slick across your clit, fascinated by that little peep of desperation from you. Your head fell back against the pillows, bliss sweeping through you as he sweetly pressed one finger into you. “Drippin’,” he reported, pressing in another finger and his thumb rubbing tenderly against your throbbing clit. “Gonna gush for me?” 

You probably would, Bradley’s ability to drag absolutely everything out of you blew your mind each time. “Need your cock. Fill me up, Bradley.” 

Pushing in, one delicious inch by delicious inch, licking his full lips as your back curved to take him as deeply as possible. He buried his face in your breasts, holding one in his calloused palm, eyes fluttering closed as he traced, left wet, open-mouthed kissed and tenderly bit the other, and the groan you let you made him clamp his palm over your mouth. “You’re so wet, baby,” he stared deeply into your eyes as he evened his breath with the first few rolls of his slender hips. "But you're gonna wake your parents if you don’t control yourself."

"Let them fuckin' hear," you muttered behind your hand (you’d die if they heard you though) as he chuckled and began his ruthless assault on your senses, one thrust at a time. 

"You're too good to me," Bradley reminded you in disbelief.  

"All for you," you confided, as you watched the beads of sweat break across his brow as you dug your nails into his well-worked traps, willingly knowing it would leave a mark courtesy of your fresh manicure. You raised your hips to meet his deep, plunging thrusts, fucking into you strong and deep. He felt incredible, you don't think anyone had loved on you as Bradley Bradshaw could. So thorough, and never one to leave you hanging. 

Too long, too sore? He'd pause and tenderly withdraw to hold you, reassuring you that it was fine, and your comfort was paramount. Too sensitive after coming too hard, he'd give you time to recover, finding other ways to bring you pleasure.

It was nice to be considered in your relationship, in your sex life especially. In the past, you'd been made to feel like a machine, if you didn't cum, partners still could, and you'd just deal with it. For a long time, that stuck with you and having someone consider you like Bradley would almost seem too good to be true at the start. 

But that consideration never lapsed. He was make-believe and you fucking hoped if this man and everything he brought to you was a dream that you’d never, ever wake up. 

Desperate to keep himself controlled, Bradley reached for the headboard of your old bed, gripping it for dear life as he tried so damn hard to avoid coming. He loved fucking you raw, and since birth control was completely your choice, you two had to stop playing this dangerous game. Because one day? It would beat you both.

"I need to cum, Bradley," you whined to him as he nodded, chewing his lower lip, and putting your delicate fingers in your mouth, not losing his rhythm. He knew. He knew how close you were. 

"Lemme see you touch yourself, baby. Get those fingers - " he gasped as you clenched around him. "Get 'em nice and wet and play with that sweet, tight pussy. Lemme see you fall apart.”

Before, language like that would embarrass you, but with Bradley, it only spurred you on. It was incredible the ways he’d helped you grow and mature as a friend, partner and lover. As instructed, and in the low early morning light, Bradley’s breath hitched, watching you touch yourself and you couldn’t help it, the beat of his cock against your g-spot, your fingers pressing rough circles into your clit and you started to come. 

“Yes, baby. Yes,” he urged, moving his mouth to your ear, whispering his sweet encouragement. “You feel so good, just a little mo – ” he forced his mouth against yours, kissing your pleasure to him, to keep the noise down. He wrapped his hand under your hip, lifting your waist to push harder into you as you trembled below him, your pussy clutching his cock, spasming as he shuddered against your lips. “Yes, baby.”

“Jesus, Bradley, fuck me,” you begged as his hips speed up like a piston, thrusting hard into your swollen, sensitive pussy, his hand clutching yours away from your strained clit and pressing intensely in your place, hoping to drag your orgasm out and as you fell, lifeless, back against the squishy pillows, pussy pulsating, Bradley grunted low he was coming and after his final few thrusts, he quickly withdrew and unloaded, stroking himself until he was spent, pearly ribbons of cum decorating your belly and breasts. 

He collapsed beside you, taking your cheeks in his face and kissing you wildly. “I love you. I love you, baby,” he kissed you again, and though you were spent, you returned his affections, because truly… you loved Bradley Bradshaw with your entire being. It was going to take a lot to change that. “Are you okay?” he asked, chest still heaving as he breathed, his pointer finger tracing through the mess he made on you.

“I’m good, sweetheart,” you assured him as he gave you one last, final kiss.

“Think that helped with your jetlag?” he teased.

“Makes me want another round,” you admitted as he chuckled and raised an eyebrow. 

“Of course you do,” he pressed a kiss into your pulse and lifted his lips back to yours, holding you close and just like horny teenagers, enjoying making out for a few moments in the afterglow. “Where’s that shirt gone?” he asked, peering over the side of the bed, and cleaning you up. “Jackson Pollack painting here.”

“Be less proud,” you told him as he snorted.

“Yes, ma’am,” he pressed another kiss to your lips. “Sure you’re okay?”

“Perfect, but let me go pee,” you whispered as Bradley kissed you long and deep, he nodded into the kiss but was not quite ready to leave you leave him. 

“Go, clean up, baby,” he helped you up from the bed, your legs precarious and meandering like Bambi. “Careful,” he sighed, wistfully. But he knew it already, you were thoroughly fucked, just how he liked it. 

A few hours later and thankfully, a few more hours of sleep, your alarm woke you, the sun much higher in the sky and the heat of the day starting to rise. You’d showered and told him to come down when he was ready, you’d help your Mum with some brekky.

“You want eggs?”

“Anything,” Bradley admitted. “Famished.”

“Okay, sweetheart,” you cupped his face in your palms and kissed him lightly. “Don’t rush.”

“Okay,” he gave a small grin but didn’t much feel like lingering. After a quick shower, he dressed, annoyed he didn't pack any golf gear, at minimum the shoes that you gave him grief for every time he wore them, but maybe he'd treat himself and buy some at the course today. He rifled through his bag, clutching the velvet box in his palm tightly, convinced more than ever that this was real, this was happening and soon, he'd hope to have you wearing his mother's engagement ring too. 

Slapping on his CVN-71 cap, he knew you went a bit feral when he perched it backward. May as well leave you with good thoughts while he was out and about, asking your old man for your hand on the golf course. And if it went badly, it was also something to identify him when the authorities found him if your dad said no. 

#this is barely edited #just pure unadultered smuff #rooster #rooster x reader #bradley bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw #rooster bradshaw #rooster imagine #rooster fanfic #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley bradshaw fic #i don't use 'daddy' lightly #please see the comedy in it #i just had thots ok? #notroosterbradshaw #rooster top gun #rooster bradshaw fic #rooster fluff #rooster smut #rooster x you #top gun fanfiction

[suguruplsr]

it takes two! wait— or is it three?

✰ they’re such big meanies! at least they were only teasing..

satoru x fem! reader x suguru , threesome , dirty talk , use of pet names , fingering + mentions of squirting + sucking fingers , they’re kinda mean , satosugu implications , light masturbation , they talk abt how they’re gonna fuck u , teasing/edging , clit + nipple + cum play , you pass out in the end

Divider @/chachachannah

your best friends had you crying all night, fucking you all rough and mean with their cocks fighting to get inside your warm cunny. but dumping their fat loads inside you wasn’t enough, not enough for men like satoru and suguru at least.

“fuck. it’s practically squirtin’ out of her.” satoru moans, he was in front of your puffy cunt, siting on your bed on his knees and watching you squirm in suguru’s hold, who had you sat on his lap. two of his fingers were deep in your pussy, moving in a ‘come hither’ motion and forcing globs of previous cum to come out, dripping onto your bed. “yea? s’messy?” suguru hums, his free hand giving your shaking thigh a small spank as a sign for you to stop moving.

and you whimper in response, feeling embarrassed as satoru’s eyes gleam once suguru pulls his fingers out to spread your folds. “uh huh. can’t believe we got her that full~” he coos, hand flying down to stroke his already leaking cock while suguru kisses your cheek, rubbing your soaked folds. “mm, wanna cum baby? we’ve been neglecting you haven’t we?” suguru murmurs, voice sweet with a slickly undertone that makes your mushy mind swirl. “mhm! wanna cum so bad sugu! please?” you whine, biting your bottom lip and watching satoru intently.

his cock is long, not as much girth as suguru’s but always enough to bump against your cervix every time. and the tip is red, practically aching as little spurts of cum fall out when he strokes it, hand tight around it. your pussy throbs from the sight, mewling when suguru stuffs your cunt in one swift motion. “so shameless, baby. lookin’ at me like you wanna eat me up.” satoru grins, voice breathy and laced with need as he stops before letting the tight feeling in his lower body build.

but you can’t respond because suguru presses right where you need him, applying pressure on your g-spot, making you whimper. “bet she does. and she was complainin’ all about being tired. little liar huh?” suguru tsks as you lean back into his sweaty chest, eyes rolled back and body trembling, trying to stop yourself from thrashing in his hold. “n-no! really am tired!” you cry out. it was true, you swear! if he wasn’t fucking you with his fingers so good, then you could pass out in seconds.

“i don’t think she needs to cum then..” satoru sighs, faux disappointment on his face as he raises your thighs around him, moving closer to your and suguru’s merged bodies, and suguru halts in thought. almost considering his words, and you aren’t having it. “oh? what’s wrong? i’m just sayin’, hun.” you were glaring at satoru through your blurry eyes, a pout gracing your beautiful features, “but i do! please, tell him suguru! i only came once t’night.” you tilt your head up on his shoulder, eyes full of want and hope.

yet, it all comes crashing down once you see that mean and sick smile curl on suguru’s face. “hm? he does have a point.” suguru kisses your forehead, and you thinks he’s the devil the way his fingers turn into thrusting inside your pussy. but he keeps them slower than how you want it, not letting you feel the pleasure you want. “w-what? but i really wanna cum. please?” your voice breaks, eyes watering and you’re just so cute. satoru leans in, kissing the single tear that slips down your cheeks.

“but you just said you want it, not that you need it sweetheart~” satoru sings, pressing a finger on your clit, working together with suguru to tease you. “contradicting yourself hun, s’okay. maybe beg a little more and satoru will say yes. y’know he’s weak.” suguru sighs, putting his chin on top of your head and locking eyes with the other man, who scoffs in disagreement. your mind doesn’t work right with how you’re trapped between them, muscular and large chests around you. and they’re treating you like you don’t know a single thing.

as much as you want to fight back, you can’t help but let your sex-ridden mind fall victim to their mocking, clenching around suguru’s fingers.

“toruu, please? i need ta’ cum so bad! don’t be mean. please?” you interrupt their bickering, a hand reaching out to drag along his chest. the way satoru looks down at you makes you understand why people feel discouraged under his gaze. you try to hold eye contact, but suguru’s thumb rolls over your clit, making your free and immediately grip his large thigh tight. suguru chuckles, “what d’you say, toru? i bet she’s so pretty right now isn’t she?” his darkened eyes looked at satoru expectantly, as if coaxing him in. and satoru huffs, leaning back in and kissing you hungrily.

suguru’s laugh rings through the room as he watches you two fight against each other’s lips, his hands finally going back into curling in your pussy. “yeaaa she is. just wanna make her cry s’more. love it when she gets like this.” satoru’s groan makes you whine, trying to push him away as suguru brings a hand up to your tits. “aw, but you wanted this~ wanna cum right? oh i’ll let you cum alright.” satoru mocks you, a fake look of disappointment crossing his expression as he goes down to suck your nipples.

“y’r bullying me.” you tuck out your bottom lip, brows furrowed as suguru pushes his fingers deeper, his head moving into your shoulder to escape the throw of your head. “oh? pretty baby’s gettin’ all worked up huh?” suguru hums, fingers constantly curling so perfectly into your pussy to abuse that sweet spot of yours. you nod your head quickly as satoru’s tongue rolls over your perked bud, squeezing the flesh with one hand while his other intertwined with suguru’s to mess with your other tit.

“being so dramatic. but can you make her cum sugu~ promise i’ll let you fuck her face out.” satoru grins, eyes flickering up to suguru, who smirks, pairing his thumb and fingers to move in sync, pressing your clit and fucking your pussy relentlessly, thick fingers not giving you a break. “oh! f-fuuuuck, ngh, suguru!” you moans are quick to grace their ears, your body trembling under them as they help you reach your climax.

you’re so beautiful, shaking and crying, sweet sounds escaping those ruined lips of yours as you feel your tummy tighten up. “shit. gonna make a mess f’me? gonna make all that sweet sweet cum spill out. make sure you say thank you too~” satoru teases, a bringing his a hand down to rub your stomach that was full of their seeds. “yea… wanna hear you say, ‘thank you sugu’ in that cute whiny voice of yours.” suguru kisses your chin, licking up some of the tears that slowly slipped down your face. “okay..” you whimper, stammering as satoru helps suguru keep your clit stimulated.

you feel like something’s about to burst within you, senses livid and drawing your mind blank. “thank you sugu!” you cry out, creaming all around his fingers, pussy throbbing and practically crying with you as you experience your high. satoru whistles at the sight of cum sticking to his counterparts fingers, only getting more messier each time suguru pushes them in to collect your sweet goodness. “fuck. is she ruining the blanket? i might have to eat her out first now.” suguru sighs, pulling his fingers out and raising them to satoru, who quickly pulls them into his mouth, humming in satisfaction and agreement.

your eyes flicker, open and close, as you watch satoru suck suguru’s fingers, cum coating his tongue once he starts lolling it around the digits. “so fucking good. f-fuck. i get to have her face first then? i need to cum really bad.” satoru whines, his dick is probably going to explode if he doesn’t get it somewhere in you. suguru chuckles, pulling his hand away and bringing it back to your soaping cunny, dragging two fingers along your folds. “i guess. don’t get too happy toru. you don’t get to cum until i say so.” suguru smiles, cum soaked fingers going to play with satoru’s aching tip.

“suguru.” satoru heaves, muscles visibly contracting as he falls prey to the dark haired males teasing. “wait— i think she passed out.” he quickly points out, giving a sigh of relief once suguru diverts his attention back to your slumped form, “huh, oh well. i guess we can fuck the sleep out of her. or.. continue without her. you really need to cum, right?” suguru’s smug, eyes meeting satoru’s after he lays your sleeping body on the other side of the bed. and satoru almost wishes he didn’t get too caught up in his fun.

#jujustu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jjk x fem!reader #jujustu kaisen #jjk smut #jjk x you #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jjk x y/n #stsg x reader #stsg #stsg smut #satoru x you #gojo satoru smut #gojo satoru x reader #satoru gojo #satoru x reader #jjk satoru #gojou satoru x reader #jujutsu kaisen satoru #gojo satoru #geto suguru smut #geto suguru x reader #suguru smut #suguru x reader #suguru geto smut #getou suguru x reader #satoru smut #jujutsu kaisen suguru

[rhaenella]

CL16 | Is It Over Now? | pt.6

pairing: charles leclerc x singer!reader

genre: social media au

summary: you and charles have been everyone's fave couple on the grid, but when you somewhat unexpectedly break up, you turn to songwriting to cope with the pain

face claim: léon

a/n: enjoy the penultimate part! 🥰

･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part 7

masterlist

･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･

Liked by carlossainz55, yourbestfriend and 1,184,902 others

y/n: When you go to the loo for 5 mins and you come back to find this in your camera roll… (there are like 30 more of these btw)

View all 13,247 comments

landonorris: Perks of flying with Norris Airways

y/n: It was a little cramped tbh

maxverstappen1: Verstappen Airlines is open for bookings

y/n: Hm… I might hold you to that

landonorris: Heyyy 😕

danielricciardo: We should’ve been models

y/n: Please 😂 What a wasted opportunity

user36: omg lando and daniel 😭😭😭

user37: they’re so annoyingly cute i can’t

user38: 😍😍😍

user39: i will never tire of seeing y/n hangout with the other drivers 🥹

yourbestfriend: Monaco get ready, y/n is back to party

Liked by y/n

11 August

y/n’s story

Seen by maxverstappen1, lilymhe and 4,228,671 others

13 August

Liked by alex_albon, kellypiquet and 692,317 others

maxverstappen1: Monaco Padel Champions 2023 🏆

View all 3,221 comments

kellypiquet: ♥️

carlossainz55: 👏👏

landonorris: This is definitely not us making fun of the loser team

maxverstappen1: 😂

alex_albon: Whose idea was it to team up Daniel with y/n?? That’s the easiest win ever

landonorris:✌️

danielricciardo: Shut up. We’re the best team in the world 👯

y/n: Let them be darling, they don’t understand our genius

maxverstappen1: You call winning zero sets “genius”?

y/n: Shut up

13 August

landonorris’ story

Seen by alex_albon, charles_leclerc and 3,973,621 others

14 August

y/n’s story

Seen by landonorris, charles_leclerc and 3,811,759 others

14 August

Liked by arthur_leclerc, riccardoberetta and 1,337,980 others

charles_leclerc: Missed being in the car. Otherwise I enjoyed every second of it 🤍 Onto Zandvoort! 💪

View all 8,783 comments

scuderiaferrari: ❤️

joris__trouche: Let’s goooo 🇳🇱

arthur_leclerc: La huitième photo 🔥

Liked by charles_leclerc

user40: CHARLIE 😍

user41: always with the shirtless pics 🥵🥵

user42: lol the utter panic on his face during the pingpong game

user43: soooo… where’s maddy, charles?

user44: she left remember 🙊

user43: do you think she “left” left 👀

user45: imagine if she did lmao

user43: OH THE DRAMA

user46: guys don’t give me hope

21 August

Liked by taylorswift, danielricciardo and 1,477,264 others

y/n: Summer ‘23 w/ some of the best people 💛

View all 14,572 comments

taylorswift: Ahhh it was so good to finally be on stage together!! 💖

y/n: Yesss, couldn’t agree more!!! We should do it again sometime ☺️

landonorris: Thank you for coming love ❤️

y/n: Wouldn’t have wanted to miss it for the world 😘

user47: the prettiest

user48: please come to germany next 🙏

user49: STUDIO?? MORE MUSIC???? 

Liked by y/n

user50: you look so much happier :’)

user51: she really does 😍😍 she seems to be doing much better since la 

25 August

Liked by user43, user54 and 334,091 others

wagsf1update: ‼️Charles Leclerc and Maddy Hill have broken up‼️ More updates soon

View all 5,348 comments

user52: no. fucking. way.

user53: well that lasted a whole four ass months

user43: OMG WE WERE RIGHT

user45: i can’t believe it

user46: my prayers have been answered 😭

user54: congrats to sharl for seeing the light 

user55: bye adieu arrivederci maddy 👋

1 September

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a/n: hmm, y/n seems to be getting closer with lando… but with daniel as well, and charles is also single again… i wonder what will happen next 👀

on a more serious note though, i unfortunately have to postpone part 7 until somewhere between christmas/new year’s eve… i’m going on a trip abroad to visit family for the holidays and i really tried to get part 7 ready in time but alas. we can all blame tumblr’s annoying policy of not allowing 10+ images on the app. anyways, i do have a finished request lined up, so i’ll post that next week instead :)

･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･

Tags: @sukisheadlights @eviethetheatrefreak @blueflorals @kiskso @dessxoxsworld @treehouse-mouse @dangeroustacoalienbiscuit @clown-fc @stopeatread @vanishingcherry @bb-swift @leclercdream @scenesofobx @kagatinkita @allywthsr @evieepepi08 @viennakarma @riverjane-d @httpjeonlicious @madnesstaking0ver @futurecorps3 @celesteblack08 @sadg3 @simxican @glow-ish @spideybv28 @laneyspaulding19 @tswizzleismother @slytherinfolk25 @merchelsea @1655clean @urgirlnextdoorr @cixrosie @lightdragonrayne @lxclerc @hopexcroc

#charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x singer reader #charles leclerc x female reader #charles leclerc x y/n #charles leclerc x you #f1 x reader #formula 1 x reader #f1 x y/n #charles leclerc smau #charles leclerc fake instagram #charles leclerc fake social media #formula 1 smau #formula 1 fanfic #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc fic #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc blurb #is it over now?

[luminoustarlight]

As Fate Would Have It | Chapter Two

It's your first day of work at Skywalker Enterprises.

◂ chapter one ▸ chapter three

rating: mature | pairing: dilf!anakin skywalker x afab!reader | wc: 3.7k | read on ao3

warnings: swearing, age-gaps, sexual fantasies

The moms at St. Lucas Preparatory School are shameless. Single, divorced, and married women (and some men) alike can’t help but hold their breath when Anakin Skywalker steps onto campus. The dads are intimidated by him and the moms… well, let’s just say the moms have less than school appropriate thoughts about the billionaire. 

Anakin detests the end of the year. He hates being involved at the school. He doesn’t want to spend 2 hours of his day off packing meals in a crowded gymnasium with other parents who also don’t want to be there. 

He doesn’t want to make small talk or ask about Luke and Leia’s classmates because frankly, he doesn’t give a crap. The only children he likes are his own and he won’t pretend otherwise. 

“Mr. Skywalker,” Leia’s teacher, Ms. Clark sighs, “you are the only parent in my class who has yet to sign up for a slot at this year's Cranberry Sauce.” Cranberry Sauce is just the name the school gives the Thanksgiving Drive to make it sound more “fun”. 

Anakin gives his children a kiss on their foreheads and sends them through the school gates. Once they’re out of earshot, he addresses Leia’s teacher. “I already wrote a check to buy the damn food. Isn’t that sufficient?” 

“Mr. Skywalker,” Ms. Clark repeats with annoyance. If it were up to her, she’d let Anakin donate all of the money he wants in order to keep him from volunteering at school events. She thinks he’s arrogant, stuck-up, and far too handsome for any man to be. So she decides to loathe him since she can’t fuck him. But Headmaster Franklin is adamant Anakin attends the event. 

“I really insist that you participate for at least an hour at Cranberry Sauce next weekend. It is important for your children to see you involved at the school. At their school.” 

Anakin’s tall and broad stature seems to grow even larger at this statement. How dare this woman insinuate anything about him as a father? 

“You think I’m not involved in my childrens’ lives?” Anakin has just enough self-control not to completely raise his voice at his daughter’s fourth grade teacher. Especially since parents are continuing to drop off their kids. “You think I’m an absent father who gives the school money to compensate for my lack of paternal instincts?” 

“I didn’t say that,” Ms. Clark answers cautiously. “There is no need to make a scene. I have no doubts you are an excellent father, Mr. Skywalker. I don’t think Leia would be the young lady she is if you weren’t. One hour. That's all we ask.” 

Anakin raises an eyebrow. “We?” 

“Oh, um, well-” Ms. Clark stammers. Busted. She sighs with defeat. “Headmaster Franklin would very much like to see you there.”

“I’m sure he would,” Anakin replies smugly. Headmaster Franklin wants him there for publicity. Anakin should be more pissed about that than being accused of not being a present parent, but he’s not. He likes his ego stroked every now and then. “One hour.” 

“Thank you,” Ms. Clark smiles tightly. “Does 10-11 work for you?” 

“Fine,” Anakin waves his hand dismissively as he gets a message on his phone. 

Ben Kenobi 

Your new secretary is here. 

Shit. It’s Anakin’s first day without Dorothy. No wonder the morning has gone the way it has. Between Luke spilling orange juice on his shirt, Leia’s uncooperating French braids, and his conversation with Ms. Clark, Anakin can’t help but fear the change in routine with a new assistant. He types his response. 

Anakin Skywalker

Assistant. Not secretary. I’ll be there in 20 minutes. 

Ben Kenobi 

If you say so. 

Ben Kenobi is Anakin’s closest friend. Some might even call them brothers. Ben is fifteen years older than Anakin, married to the mayor, and enjoys fly fishing on the weekends. He’s also Luke and Leia’s godfather. Should anything happen to Anakin, there is no one else he’d trust to raise and watch over his children than Ben Kenobi. 

And Ben knows better than anyone that Anakin doesn’t like change. He’s been dreading Dorothy’s last day since she told him she was retiring a year ago. How was he going to find someone as good as her? Someone who anticipates his needs before he does? 

That’s why he tasked her with finding her own replacement. He’s just too busy to interview a replacement for Dorothy himself. He wouldn’t know what to look for, anyway. If he doesn’t know what he wants in a woman to date, how is he supposed to know what he wants in a new assistant? 

.

.

. 

“Mr. Skywalker is not in at the moment. Can I take a message?” You’ve uttered that exact sentence at least seven times since you arrived at the office at 8:00 a.m. Now, as it nears 9:00, you expect to see your new boss very soon. 

Each time you hear the elevator ding, you look up with hopefulness at the arrival of the esteemed Anakin Skywalker. What will you say to him? How will you introduce yourself? Will he be nice and welcoming? God, you hope so. You’ve read just about every article, watched every interview, and listened to every podcast he’s done to prepare yourself for the job. The consensus is the same in all of them. 

Anakin Skywalker is generous, he’s polite, and generally gets along with everyone— if you don’t get on his nerves. And, according to Dorothy, he’s a charmer. 

“Yes, absolutely,” you say while taking notes of the message on a legal pad. Your head is down so you don’t notice Anakin walking out of the elevator. He stops 5 steps away from your desk. His ribs feel like they’re collapsing around his lungs because of that voice. Why does he know that voice? 

“I will let Mr. Skywalker know you called as soon as he gets into the office.” You hang up the phone and as you look up, there he is in all of his gorgeous glory. 

You actually have to tell yourself to take a breath because he’s even more handsome in person. Faint lines around his eyes represent years of life he lived before you were born. His dark blonde hair is combed back effortlessly and is it wrong that you want to run your hands through it? Yeah, probably. He’s your boss and over twenty years older than you. 

“It’s-” Anakin can’t even say more than that because holy fuck. Is he dreaming? He squeezes his eyes and then opens them, only to see you now standing with your hand extended to him. “It’s… you.” 

“Um, yes,” you say while awkwardly returning your arm to your side. “I’m Y/N. Your new assistant. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Skywalker.” 

“I- um, yes,” Anakin clears his throat. Christ, that wasn’t even a sentence. “I need to take care of something,” he says on his way towards his office. “I am not to be disturbed until I come out. Do you understand?” 

“Y-yes. Yes, sir,” you barely answer before Anakin’s office door is shut violently. Well, that certainly wasn’t the introduction you were expecting or hoping for. You’re starting to think not meeting him beforehand was a bad idea. It honestly should’ve been a red flag but Dorothy insisted it was fine. 

It doesn’t seem fine. 

And things definitely aren’t fine. For Anakin, that is. To say he’s freaking out is putting it lightly. He paces the length of his office, shoving his fingers through his hair and muttering to himself. “It can’t be. There’s no way it can be her.” 

Maybe he’s hallucinating. Maybe he’s having an incredibly vivid dream where his favorite OnlyFans performer, who he has known as HoneySuckle for the last three years is his new assistant. What did you say your name is? Anakin couldn’t hear you over the erection that was forming in his pants because he knows your voice. He’s cum from your voice alone. He’s cum because of you so, so many times. 

This can’t be happening. 

He’s never seen your entire face but he knows it’s you. He’d recognize your lips in a police lineup. He hears your voice in his wet dreams. He just knows it’s you. 

And the fact that he has a hard-on is a problem. A problem he wishes you could take care of but you can’t because now you work for him and he’s your boss. This is all so, so wrong. 

Anakin doesn’t so much sit on his leather chair as he does collapse into it. This was never supposed to happen. Yes, he has dreamed about meeting you on more than one occasion. He’s thought about telling you who he is during your countless direct messages so many times. He’s thought about using his infinite resources to find out who you really are on more than one occasion.

But he always concluded that it would be so insanely wrong and borderline creepy if he did that. You were always supposed to remain a fantasy. Just a nameless woman on a screen who doesn’t live in the same country, state, or city as him. 

Yet here you are— sitting outside of his office, taking his calls, calling him Mr. Skywalker and being even more beautiful than he could have imagined. 

You are no longer the woman on his tablet spewing filthy words as you make yourself orgasm. You’re tangible. You have a name- although he can’t remember what it is. He replays the interaction over in his head. The feeling he felt when he saw you was reminiscent of seeing his wife walk down the aisle at their wedding. He was a blundering mess then, just as he is a blundering mess now. 

He doesn’t even want to think about your first impression of him. He’s supposed to be Anakin Skywalker for crying out loud! The suave, handsome millionaire who has the ability to make men cower and women fall to their knees. The embarrassment he feels from that interaction is enough to subdue his hard-on. He pours himself a bit of Bourbon, shoots it back like it’s a normal thing to do at 9 in the morning, and prepares to reintroduce himself to you. 

Anakin smooths his hands down his slacks before opening his door. As his eyes are magnetized to you, his heart starts beating irregularly. Get a fucking grip. 

You stand attentively when you notice Anakin walking towards you. Worried you made a terrible impression on him, you wait to speak. But Anakin doesn’t say anything either and now he’s standing in front of your desk, all tall and lean and smelling like Cedar and Whiskey. He’s looking at you with an expression you can’t read. Did Dorothy tell him anything about you? Or did he go into this just as blind as you did? 

His eyes seem to dance all over your body which makes you feel like he’s studying you. Or criticizing every single thing about your appearance. From your simple burgundy dress to the pearl studs you bought with some of Skyguy81’s most recent (and overly generous) tip. 

Finally, because his gaze on you was becoming too much to bear, you are the one to talk first. “Is there something I can do for you, Mr. Skywalker?” 

Yeah, you can remind him of your name for starters. “Do you have messages for me?” is what he asks instead. 

“Yes,” you answer, picking up the pad you’ve been scribbling notes on for the last hour. “Rex sent over the final schematics for the 0525 project that needs your approval by 3 p.m. today in order to begin production. Mayor Kryze’s office called about the upcoming Gala in December and wanted to know if you would be in attendance. And if so, how many tickets should they reserve? Oh, and someone from St. Lucas Preparatory School called to let you know that your son ripped his pants and needs a new pair brought to school because they don’t have any new pants in his size.” 

Anakin taps his index finger on your desk while he listens to you. He barely registers anything you say because it’s really hard to hear your voice without getting aroused. It’s hard even looking at you without automatically picturing you naked. There’s not an inch of your skin he’s never seen. Well, except for the top half of your face which now, of course, he has seen. And God, does he love what you have to offer. 

You’re still relaying messages but suddenly you’re bent over your desk, gripping the edge of it with pale knuckles as Anakin slams into you over, and over, and over. He’s making you yelp his name so loudly the whole building can hear you. 

“Mr. Skywalker?” 

Anakin snaps back into reality where you’re still fully clothed and definitely not moaning his name. “What?” comes out a little harsher than he intended. And he immediately regrets it when he sees you visibly shrink right before him. 

“What- what would you like me to tell the Mayor’s office?” 

Anakin has gone as a bachelor to the last two Christmas Galas. Ben stays close to Satine the whole night and he really doesn’t see the point in asking a woman he has no interest in to be his date. Plus, going alone lets him leave the party with whomever he wants or to call it a night and go home early to watch ELF and drink peppermint cocoa with his kids. 

“Have them put me down for 2.” 

You nod whilst making another note on the pad. “And what about your son’s pants?” 

“Did they say where he ripped them?” 

“Right down the middle,” you answer. 

Anakin shakes his head. “Oh, Luke,” he mutters to himself. “Alright, I’ll go home and get him a new pair.” 

“Icandoit,” rushes out of your mouth. 

“What?” 

“Sorry, my mouth moved faster than my brain,” you reply, hoping Anakin will find it endearing instead of annoying. “I said I can do it. I don’t mind. It’s my job, isn’t it?” 

Anakin opens his mouth but doesn’t say anything. Yes, technically it’s your job to do this sort of errand. But Anakin doesn’t want you going to his house alone, sifting through his son’s drawers, and bringing him new pants to his school. 

Primarily because he’d much rather you be in his home under different circumstances. 

“We’ll go together,” Anakin decides against his better judgment. “I’ll drive.”

.

.

.

So, Anakin definitely didn’t think things through when he said he’d drive. 

In what world did he think sharing a close, confined space with you was a good idea? This whole morning has been a cluster-fuck. Honestly. He’s still struggling to wrap his head around who you are. When you announced Squirting for Sky was going to be your last video, he thought what a devastation it would be to not look forward to your videos every week. Who would’ve thought you’d be the one replacing his dear old assistant the very next week? The odds of it all are overwhelming. 

But isn’t this what he’s always wanted? The opportunity to meet you? To know your name and know you personally? Every wish of his has been granted— except for the fact that he is your boss and you are technically his subordinate. He says technically because Dorothy always felt more like family than an employee. 

You could be family. 

You could be so much more than his assistant.

Oh, Jesus Christ, Anakin. Be reasonable. She’s your employee. She’s practically a kid. 

Anakin looks over to you for the first time since getting in the car. You’re pressed against the side of the passenger door, knees angled away from him and arms crossed over your chest. “Are you cold?” 

“Oh,” you say, looking at him with a tentative smile. “A little.” 

“You should’ve said so,” Anakin turns on the heater and your seat warmer. “My kids call seat warmers butt toasters. Let me know if your butt gets too toasty.” 

You have to bite your lip to keep from laughing. 

There’s an awkward pause as Anakin realizes what he just said. He absolutely cannot think about your butt any longer than he has to because we all know how that will end.

 (A hard cock, in case that wasn’t clear). 

 “I mean, uh- shit,” Anakin briefly closes his eyes to compose himself. Let me know if your butt gets too toasty? 

“Just turn it off yourself if you get too warm.” 

Do you make him nervous? No way. You decide to let it go. “Kids? Plural?” 

“Yeah.” Anakin drapes his right arm over the center console and taps his fingers against the gear shift. Long, dexterous fingers at that. You have to look away before you start thinking about something completely inappropriate of your boss. “I have twins. A boy and a girl. Luke, he’s the silly one. Right now he’s big into archeology. He’s also pretty clumsy, hence the rip in his pants. And Leia, my daughter, she’s far too serious for any 9 year old to be. She says she wants to be a senator when she grows up.” 

This is the longest you’ve been able to look at Anakin without feeling your cheeks burning. Now, they’re just hot because of the heater blasting in your face. “You light up when you talk about them,” you say. “You must love them a lot.” 

“More than anything,” Anakin doesn’t hesitate. “Here we are.” 

You should’ve been paying attention on how to get to his house from the office. Surely, you’ll be running these errands on your own if things go well with your employment. Oh, well. That’s what the Maps is for. 

Anakin’s house is a stunning Eichler. It looks straight out of an Architectural Digest cover. The lawn outside is perfectly cropped and perfectly green but littered with a soccer ball, football, a baseball bat and whiffle balls. You wouldn’t have pegged Anakin for a mid-century modern kind of guy. You would’ve thought he’d opt for an insanely modern, sterile house. 

As you walk through the atrium and into the main body of the house, it’s clear it is a family home. Anakin uses his foot to sweep his kids’ shoes out of the way so you don’t trip over them. “Sorry about the mess.” 

“It’s okay,” you shrug. Anakin’s house isn’t even all that messy. It just looks like a home. There are so many pictures on the walls, it would be impossible to look at all of them in one go. One in particular, though, catches your eye. It’s the largest out of all of them and the only one in black and white. A significantly younger Anakin is at the bedside of who you presume to be his wife with two bundles of babies in their arms. They are both looking down and smiling. His wife was stunning. They definitely made an attractive couple. 

It’s not lost on you that there are no other pictures of Anakin’s kids with their mom. He’s only spoken about his wife’s death in one interview, about a year after her passing. If you remember correctly, she died shortly after the twins were born. 

You can’t imagine the kind of pain and heartache Anakin must have felt losing his wife. You don’t know what it feels like to experience that kind of grief. You want to tell Anakin you’re sorry for his loss, but what good will that do? Is there any consolation in that at all? 

You’re still looking at the photo when Anakin returns from Luke’s room with a new pair of tan pants. You can feel his presence right beside you and the silence is louder than words. 

He shouldn’t have brought you back here. It’s only your first day and you’ve already seen too much of his life. 

“Let’s go,” Anakin orders. You nod without a word and follow him out to the car. 

The tension in the air is palpable on your way to St. Lucas Prep. You feel like you’ve done something wrong by simply stepping foot in Anakin’s house. His whole demeanor shifted when he came back to the front room with Luke’s pants. Does he regret bringing you to the house? If so, why? Dorothy clearly laid out your responsibilities to you. Tending to personal matters at Anakin’s house is part of the job. You are not just a professional assistant, but a personal assistant, too.

You can’t stand not knowing why someone is upset with you. “Did I do something wrong?” 

Anakin’s grip on the steering wheel tightens. “No.” 

Wow, how reassuring. “Okay, then why do I feel like I did something to upset you?” 

You’re really pressing your limit with him right now. You’ve only just met 2 hours ago. See, this is why meeting him should’ve been part of the hiring process. You’d be a lot more acquainted with each other than you are right now. 

If only you knew how acquainted Anakin is with you… 

“You didn’t,” is all he says. But with a twitch of his jaw, you still feel like he’s not telling you the truth. 

“Look, Mr. Skywalker,” you begin. “I understand Dorothy meant a great deal to you, and her leaving is going to be an adjustment. But I promise you I am capable of this job. I’m never late, I’m up late all the time so if there was anything you needed, I’d be able to fulfill it. I love kids, I’m a hard worker and I would really appreciate it if you gave me a chance before making any decisions about me.” 

“You’re right,” Anakin says. “I’ll give you a chance.”  But he’s already made up his mind. He doesn’t have to ‘give you a chance’ to know that he wants you. He is crawling out of his skin with how badly he wants you. And he knows it’s wrong, probably immoral, but he really doesn’t care. Because now that you’ve been inside of his home, the boundary that should exist between him as your boss and you as his employee feels impossibly blurry.

◂ series masterlist ▸ chapter three

#anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker smut #anakin skywalker x you #anakin skywalker x female reader #anakin skywalker x f!reader #dilf!anakin skywalker #dilf!anakin #dilf anakin skywalker #modern!anakin skywalker #modern anakin skywalker #modern au #anakin skywalker fan fiction #anakin skywalker fanfiction #as fate would have it

[seattlesellie]

after keeping up with the women’s world cup i’m officially a football (soccer 🤮) girlie. if you’re dating college soccer!ellie she’s taking you to the uni bar to watch all of the matches and explaining what offside means. she’s so passionate and into it i can just see how cute she’d be when her team scores. if she’s gone pro then you’re flying out to the host country to support her, wearing her kit with williams proudly on your back

no fuck cos being ellie’s WAG …. i already have some soccer ellie hc’s but ughhhh her being a pro is so <333 firstly she wouldn’t know how to handle fame at all and she’d be so awkward during interviews 😭🥺 they’d ask her who she’d like to dedicate the win to and she’d immediately chuckle and go “uh… my girlfriend” before even hard launching your relationship!!

laying on her lap n almost falling asleep… but she just keeps on talking omg !!! “babe, an offside is —“ & does the little square thing with her hands. “can you please look up? i’m demonstrating”

has ongoing beef with her team manager for sure btw. but also you go to every single one of her games wearing her tee and she nearly melts when your legs wrap up around her waist as she hugs you.

also believes that fucking you in that exact same tee is her good luck ritual. “gimme another win babe, cmon, give it to me” as she drills you from behind. lays down alllll of her body weight on your back, “tight fuckin’ pussy’s gonna help me win that trophy, huh?”, obviously has insane stamina — hence why she’s fucking you in the locker room after her team lost. ellie’s definitely is a sore loser and she makes you feel it.

#𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃 anon 🎀 #ellie williams x reader #soccer!ellie

[morganbritton132]

Omg ok so my sisters used to play soccer and one of the moms had a cowbell. This woman would ring the bell every time the team got a goal. And now like 20 years later our mother was talking to someone about how my sisters used to do the local soccer thing and the other person was like “omg do you remember the cowbell lady? That team was so good but dear lord that cowbell was annoying!”……..I can picture Eddie getting a cowbell

Absolutely yes. No notes. Eddie definitely does this.

Steve kinda dooms himself to it because they played a scrimmage against a team that brought their own cheerleaders. Eddie prides himself on a level of dramatism that is not going to let that slide so he asks.

He did ask if he could be Steve’s cheerleader.

Steve, who melts every time Eddie takes an interest in one of his hobbies, does not think of the consequences when he says, “You’re already my cheerleader, but sure.”

If Steve thought about it for a little bit than he would probably think that Eddie was going to show up at the game in an actual cheerleading uniform, but he didn’t think about it. He actually forgot about the entire conversation until the next weekend when Eddie tries to get into the car with an electric guitar.

Steve stops him, “What are you doing?”

“Uh, cheerleading?”

“Where would you even plug that in at?”

“Oh, you’re right,” Eddie considers and then darts back into the house. He returns a few minutes later with an acoustic guitar, but Steve gives him a look that says very clearly ‘absolutely not.’ Eddie strums the guitar anyways and says, “I love you, bitch. I ain’t never gonna stop-“

“Eddie, we’re going to be late!”

So, he didn’t do anything that weekend other than come up with some on-the-fly cheers with another player’s girlfriend and agree to design them shirts. Nancy did say that if he tried to start a wave in the crowd that she would divorce him. From the land of the living.

He thinks she means it too.

Eddie’s already picked out the cowbell by the time next weekend rolls around. They’re playing against a group from the nearby methodist church and the only thing that Steve requests is that Eddie stays off his soapbox about organized religion. He says nothing about cowbells.

Nancy isn’t even aware that he has it until he whips it out after the first goal and starts ringing it. The whole field stops moving and just stares at him for a second, which is great. Eddie loves an audience.

Steve looks fucking delighted, too.

It is rather unfortunate that the team they’re playing against sucks major ass and they score more goals than they have in any other game because that cowbell rings with enthusiasm every single time. Except for the last goal because when Eddie went to reach for the bell, Ozzy put his paw over his hand to tell him to stop.

It doesn’t matter though because Steve runs over to him as soon as the game ends, all smiles and kisses. It’s painfully and sickeningly sweet when he tells him, “Best cheerleader I’ve ever had.”

Steve kisses him again and tells him, “Never do it again though.”

#Eddie does it again #except now they have a game they play before the game where Steve tries to find the cowbell before they leave #he is dumbfounded when he removes two from the car and yet somehow Eddie still has one come game time #(Nancy brought it for him because she thinks it’s funny) #eddie munson tiktok saga #steve harrington #eddie munson

[thetriumphantpanda]

Joel Miller Masterlist

Series

The Way You Miss Me  Explicit | COMPLETE SERIES | F!Reader  Joel is your daddy’s best friend. One evening, when your dad has to work late and you’ve been babysitting Sarah, tequila emboldens you to tell Joel what you’ve always wanted to tell him.

Ghost of You  Explicit | On-Going Series | Widow F!Reader  Grief is a strange thing. In the beginning it had been all-consuming. There wasn’t a moment of the day where you didn’t cry, didn’t ask yourself why it couldn’t have been you instead. And no-one ever explains the guilt you feel when it isn’t anymore. When it’s just a dull ache and you can finally breathe again, when you can start letting people get close to you again. People like Joel Miller. 

Trial & Error Explicit | COMPLETED SERIES | Joel x F!Reader x Tommy Tommy has always been the loyal and doting boyfriend, the literal man of your dreams. Ready to take things to the next step, you soon find that Tommy is unable to have children. A family is all you’ve ever wanted, and neither of you are going to let this get in your way. Enter Joel, dark and mysterious and willing to do anything for his little brother, including fucking his girlfriend to get her pregnant. That’s what brothers are for, right?

Come Away With Me - Trial & Error Season Two Explicit | COMPLETED SERIES | Joel x F!Reader x Tommy Four years have passed and you’ve managed to raise a beautiful baby boy into a sweet little boy. Four years of one night with Joel Miller and countless others with his brother. You’ve been trying for months now for your second baby and it’s proving much more difficult than first time around, so Joel has a plan. One week, alone, on the lake, with one goal - another baby.

In The Woods Somewhere Explicit | On-Going Series | Joel Miller x F!Reader Joel Miller, exasperated by his estrangement from Ellie, volunteers to scout out a new patrol route for Tommy. Weeks into his solitude, he stumbles upon a cabin, not abandoned, but filled with children, and you. Drawn to you like a moth to a flame, Joel’s arrival into your bubble sets off a catastrophic chain of events. You’re reliant on him now, having to trust him like no-one else to get you back to the safety of Jackson. You’ve done terrible things to stay alive, things that would disgust most people, so much so that you truly don’t believe you deserve the kindness of this rugged stranger. After everything you’ve been through, you and the children, why does he deem you worthy of his love?

The Checklist Explicit | COMPLETE SERIES | Joel Miller x F!Reader Your new boyfriend Joel finds your hidden stash of porn, full of pages with their corners folded over, marking the things you like the most. Expecting him to feel bad about finding things you’re into, things you haven’t asked for from him, you’re surprised when he offers to help you tick them off.

Delicate - Co-Authored with @hellishjoel Explicit | On-Going Series | Joel Miller x Single Parent F!Reader Sarah decides, with a year until she leaves home for good, that it's time for her dad to start dating again. Joel doesn't understand the fuss, he's more than happy with how life is for him right now, but decides if it's for Sarah, he'll give it a go. After wading through the dating apps, he comes across someone new, someone who might just be able to be the company he's needed all along.

One Day I'll Fly Away Explicit | On-Going Series | Joel Miller x F!Princess Reader A disgraced Princess, wrapped up in a scandal that no-one saw coming. A scandal and a messy, public divorce that has shaken the British Royal Family to its core and caused a media frenzy. Running away seemed the only option, get away from the eye of the storm, but no matter how far you run, the people who want to find you, will always find you. You were meant to lay low, keep your nose out of trouble, but when the handsome and rugged town rancher is as mysterious as he is, it was always going to be a disaster waiting to happen.

One-Shots

In His Healing Hands Explicit | One-Shot | F!Reader You come back from patrol with a broken body - knees and feet aching with age and the physical toll of the world. Joel knows exactly how to help you, putting his hands (and mouth) to good use.

Where You Want Your Gift, Girl? Explicit | One-Shot | F!Reader It’s your birthday and Joel, knowing it’s not your favourite celebration, is keen to show you that it‘s not always going to be a bad day, not if he can help it.

She A Bad Lil Bitch, She A Rebel Explicit | One-Shot | Brat Tamer!Joel x F!Reader Joel has to teach you a damn lesson, just like always.

Got My Mind On Your Body Explicit | One-Shot | Joel Miller x F!Reader He's the most beautiful man you've ever laid eyes on, even as he grows older, and you're determined to show him just that.

Ask Nice For It Explicit | One-Shot | Joel Miller x F!Reader You know this dance with Joel like the back of your hand - when he needs you, you do exactly as you're told.

Light In The Darkness  Explicit | One-Shot | Original Female Character Amy O'Leary has a grudge with Joel after he failed her before, but a forced scouting party and a rainstorm later and they are brought together closer than Amy ever could have imagined.

Drabbles 

We Have To Make This Quick - 585 words of smut 

Come Back To Bed - 969 words of smut 

I’m Going To Ruin You - 1.4K words of smut 

Suck It and See - 1.9k words of smut

#pedro pascal #joel miller #the last of us #joel miller smut #the last of us hbo #tlou #joel miller fic #Joel Miller fanfic #Joel Miller fanfiction #joel miller fluff #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #Joel Miller x female reader #Joel Miller x f!reader #Joel Miller Pedro Pascal

[jiniretss]

Realization

pairing: bf!suna rintarou x fem!reader

warning: swearing, mention of cutting, mention of weight loss, name calling, etc.

wc: 1.4k

genre: angst

summary: Suna didn't realize until he saw what he had done.

Days and nights were always dark, lonely, silent, and heartbreaking. Nights where her whimpers of cries would just continue on until she passes out asleep. It continues the way it was for 4 whole years out of 8 of being married to Suna Rintarou, the amazing, popular, unique, and skilled blocker for National Boys Volleyball of all Japan. All she knew was that she barely saw her husband. Her head would snap to view the man she has married for 8 whole years, just for it only getting the vision of his back. The black sports jacket covered his body, revealing his team while caring for a bag. She would sigh to herself, getting the courage to talk to him. "Rin, here have some lunch I packed for yo -" by the time she could explain the dish, all she felt was a heavy slap of the dish flying away from the bento. Holding her hand closely towards her chest as to the bento breaks, therefore, glass shattered behind her. "I don't need your disgusting dish. All it does is just give me headaches!" He shouts while staring down on her trembling body. "God damn it. Now I'm late because of you. Such an ungrateful sight." He growled. Y/n couldn't help but cry once he had left the apartment. Palms against her face as she pulls on to her hair and for it to only scream out in pain. She couldn't see the light. All her mind was just fogged with only darkness. Messy. Exhaustion. Everything comes in mind that they can categorize. Her mind was fuzzed, but the tears slowly died down after screaming her heart out for the man she decided to spend her life with. Y/n couldn't think correctly. Everything rushing through her mind was just the only scene that happened 10 minutes ago. Her body moves before her actions can. Moving to pick up the bento, slowly being careful not to hurt herself with the sharp object that scatters among the dining room.

Staring at the food she spent the morning on, she sighed to herself as a single tears drops from her eyes. "What happened, rin?" She questioned, still picking up the dropped food that was settled on the ground. After some time had passed, it was 9 pm. Rintarou usual time to get home was 7:30. It's been 2 hours since. Calling him nonstop, messaging him where he was. But finally, hearing the keys jingle opening up the door, Y/n goes rushing towards the front door. "Rin, are you okay?" She asked with so much worry in her tone. "Did you eat? Are you hungry?" She continues to ask. Y/n was scared and worried for Rintarou, but all Rintarou was giving her the silent treatment. "Rin?" She asked again. "Can you just shut up?" He says, glaring down at her face, as her face just gives him a sad look. "Rin... can we just talk -" Rin groans in annoyance from the question. "Just stop! Stop being so ignorant, horrible, and a little peice of fucking shit in the house. Stop bothering me, I'm tired of you, I'm tired of your own well being. Stop just fucking stop. Every time I come back you just something I don't even wanna come back home. You such a little whore!!!" He yells, Y/n just staring into his eyes with her hands crumbled to her side. Her anxiety was kicking in. "I-I'm sorry, I didn't know you felt like tha-" her voice was small only for Rin to shove her back.

"Don't you fucking get it! I said stop! I don't wanna hear you. Matter a fact. I don't want to see you. I don't want you in my life. Your just a little bitch who's weeping around like a little sore loser... I could've stayed with Anna and be with her. She is such better than your ungrateful self. Look at you! You're getting bigger. You eating up all the food all the god damn time. At least Anna knows how maintain her weight. While you just go and eat and get bigger!!" He shouts loudly. Her wrapped around her waist, as tears shed down from her face. "Now leave me alone you unworthy crap!" He yells before stomping his feet the way up to the room. She fell to the floor. Palm to her mouth as she silently cry to herself.

The next few days, Y/n didn't do much. She only cleaned, making sure there was food on the table, but she hadn't eaten. She took the words that Rintarou had thrown towards her. Her boney body only shows through her use to fit clothing. Rin began to notice the sudden change. How her body was fragile, she begans to wear baggy clothes, how her arms weren't showing no more. And how she was always pale. Her face was miserable, and her anxiety began to worsen more than before. "Y/n?" Rin begins only for her body to flinch at his voice. "You need to eat. you're getting really skinny." He said, not looking up at her but eating his food. She just nods, not saying a word. Picking up her fork while her hands were shaking, she dropped the utensils. Rin looks up at her. "Why aren't you eating?" He asked. "I'm not hungry." She says, getting up and walking towards the guest room where she has been sleeping for a while. Rintarou sighed to himself, thinking why she was all of sudden acting this way. He followed her into the room and opened the door to see scars on her arms and legs. "Y/n?" Suna's voice shakes. Y/n turns her head and begins to hurry to put her clothes on. "Suna... knock next time." She says quietly. "Suna," the last name of his ringing in his head. She never called me that ever since middle school. "Have you been cutting yourself?" Rin wonders. "No." She said shortly. "Yes, you have, let me see." Rin says, as she backs up into the corner. "No." She repeated. "I'm your husband so let me see." He says getting closer as her lifted up her sleeves. Seeing freshly and old cuts being available to see. "Why are you cutting yourself." Rin looks up in a painful look.

"Why you care?" She says, snatching her arm away, pulling down the sleeve. She pushes past Rintarou and hops in the bed. He slides in right next to her to hold her small portion of the body. "Baby, what's wrong?" He asked again, still concerning over her actions. "Don't call me that." She replies. "What do you mean?" He sits up, staring at her face with tears coming down. "What's wrong?" He asked again. "You rin... you compared me to your ex-girlfriend, and then talked about my weight. Then tell me to shut the fuck up. And now you don't want that. You wanted space so I gave, you wanted me to lose weight right, so I gave. You wanted me to be like your ex girlfriend Anna, so I gave it. You wanted me to shut up, so I gave it to you. Still wanting to be by me, even though I'm ungrateful, a whore, a bitch, all those categories. Right, I am those. Cause I'm not as perfect as Anna was." She hiccuped between her words, only for Rin to remember what he said. "I'm sorry princess." Y/n looks over seeing that he was sorry. "I know you're not." She sighs. "But I forgive you." She trembles. Only for to hug her. "I don't want you to be like Anna, I want you to be yourself. I miss the way you would always make me food to bring to practice. I miss the way you healthy body looks, I miss everything about Y/n. Trust me. I was thinking about what I said and I know I hurt the love of my life. I'm really sorry. I was just stressed with the schedule I have that I've taken all theat stressed on to you. And I'm really sorry about it." Rin whispers, as he lied next to her for her to cuddle up against him. "Do me a favor. Will you be healthy again. It scares me to see you like this. I want you to be better." He smiles kissed her forehead. "Okay." Y/n mumbles. "Now let's go eat before the food gets cold. I'm going to watch you eat okay." She nods. As them both settled themselves downstairs in the dinning room.

#suna rintaro angst #suna x reader angst #suna rintarou #haikyuu angst #haikyuu #anime #x reader #anime x reader #suna angst #suna rintarō #suna rintaro x reader #suna rintaro haikyuu #suna rintaro x y/n

[aingeal98]

More Buffyposting today but one thing I love about Willow is how aware she is in a meta sense. She knows on some level that Buffy's the protagonist and she's a supporting character, so when Buffy dies she drags her out of heaven because they need her to keep the "show" going. And then when she decides she's going to murder Warren for killing Tara she knows this will firmly put her against the others, crossing a line and making her a villain. So she decides fuck it and makes a quick stop to change into quite possibly the only dark jacket and jeans in her wardrobe because if she's going on a rampage of rage and vengeance with no coming back then she is going to look the part!

Everything about Willow at the end of s6 is so awful and tragic but also so very fun, because not only does she get to vent every single issue and mean thought she's had for years now to show how committed she is to burning bridges, but she also gets to say as many silly villain lines as she wants. The amusement in her voice when she summons a fireball to murder two men and says "fly my pretty fly" like she was having so much fun ticking every villain cliche and joke off her list and honestly good for her! I was having fun watching it too. You go Willow, say bored now and complete your downward spiral by referencing your own evil mirror from years ago who foreshadowed your slide into the dark side. Give Buffy an enemy to destroy so she can go out fighting. Make fun of how Dawn was underutilised and only seemed to suffer. Mock Xander for his obvious power of friendship speech but then get friendshipped anyway sucker because no matter your level of metatextual awareness you are still a part of that text and you suffer the real emotions that come with it.

It's just so good. I adore her arc so much.

#btvs rambles #btvs #willow rosenberg

[autisticlancemcclain]

“—Lance isn’t even paying attention!”

Lance looks up from his phone, noticing Pidge whining to Coran for the first time.

“I’m paying attention,” he lies.

Pidge ignores him. “It’s not fair! He should forfeit his movie vote! He’s not even gonna watch, anyway.” She turns to Lance, glaring. “He’s gonna be too busy texting Keith and making ga-ga eyes at his phone.”

“I will not!” he says, rapidly trying and failing to delete the ‘wish you were here, Dropout’ text he just sent. “I don’t — I wasn’t even texting Keith! I haven’t talked to him in days!”

Not a single person is fooled. Even Coran, who can regularly be counted upon to be on Lance’s side, is raising an eyebrow.

“Honest!” Lance insists.

“Ugh,” Pidge complains, glaring at him before flopping back on the couch. “I still think your vote shouldn’t count.”

Regardless of her petulance, Lance does get a vote, thank you very much. Unfortunately it comes with an abundance of teasing and wiggling eyebrows from the rest of the team, but whatever. At least his point was made, and he doesn’t have to watch whatever nerd documentary Pidge was gunning for.

To his credit, he does actually try to pay attention to the movie. It seems mildly interesting, at least, some kind of Altean classic, and usually he’d be able to at least appreciate the costumes. He really does try.

Fifteen minutes in, his phone buzzes slightly.

Absolutely not, he tells himself. Do not Pavlov yourself to his ringtone, because that would be humiliating. You can go two hours without talking to him. You’re basically a grown-up, for fuck’s sake. You barely even like him mostly. Plus, if Hunk reads over your shoulder and sees the messages you’re sending to him you will never recover.

Nodding resolutely to himself, he shoves his phone deeper in his pocket and returns his attention to the movie. There’s some kind of conflict happening, maybe between the two romantic leads?

Whatever. Lance is paying attention. The movie is just…unclear.

The second time the phone rings, reasoning with himself is much harder. After all, Shiro isn’t even trying to pretend he’s not falling asleep into his popcorn — he’s not paying attention. And Hunk is intently braiding Allura’s hair, so he’s not paying attention either. The point of family movie night is to spend a few hours in each other’s presence outside of training or missions or meals, so it totally counts even if Lance is on his phone, right?

He has to physically sit on his hands to keep himself from checking his messages. Pidge will needle you about it for eternity, he reminds himself, increasingly desperate.

The third time it buzzes, he gives up. His hands fly to his phone so fast he cringes at himself.

How embarrassing.

Fully aware his ears are bright red, he clicks on the notification, opening his and Keith’s communication line.

mullet-head:

lance? you there?

mullet-head:

did you fall asleep during movie night

mullet-head:

are you pulling an old man shiro

Lance smiles to himself, glancing over at the snoring leader of Voltron, drooling on Coran’s shoulder. Keith never misses a chance to clown on his brother, even if Shiro can’t even see it.

loverboy:

i did not fall asleep u butthead

loverboy:

i’m not shiro

loverboy:

i’m not six i don’t need naps

Keith doesn’t respond for a second, and Lance pictures him with his head thrown back, eyes squinted shut and mouth open wide in the startled way he laughs when he unintentionally finds Lance funny. It makes something warm and simultaneously bitter churn in his belly, thinking of how many lightyears away he is from that brighter-than-the-sun laughter.

mullet-head:

stop making me laugh i’m going to get caught

mullet-head:

i’m on some boring patrol i’m not supposed to be on my phone

Lance narrows his eyes in alarm. If that dumbass is texting him instead of paying attention on a mission, he swears —

loverboy:

patrol where??

loverboy:

please don’t tell me ur dicking around on ur phone on a GALRA BASE

mullet-head:

no no no it’s some supply centre

mullet-head:

look

The texting bubble spins for a moment, loading, then a video comes through. Lance glances around the room surreptitiously, but no one is paying any attention to him. Pidge is chatting quietly with Allura, Coran is totally wrapped up in the film, Shiro’s still sleeping, and Hunk has moved to Allura’s other side to braid the hair on that half of her head. Still, he turns the volume as low as he can, angling the phone away from the others.

The video footage is shaky at first, eventually settling on Keith’s face. He looks good — well fed, healthy.

Handsome.

Embarrassed, Lance pauses the video, taking a moment to observe Keith’s face. It’s stupid and gay and sentimental, but — Lance has been looking for a reason to ask Keith to send him a picture, a video, hell, a voice message. Something to confirm, aside from texts, that he’s alive and well, something for Lance to hold on to, a glimpse of the face he’s missed so dearly (not that he’ll admit it). He’s been too embarrassed to ask, but wanting to feel like he’s in the same room as Keith again.

“I thought the Arizona desert was boring,” video Keith says, exasperated. “But at least it has cool lizards. This place has nothing but rocks, sand, and more rocks. Look.”

The video flips around, showing off Keith’s view. He slowly moves the camera to the side, presumably so Lance can see just how boring the rocks and sand and more rocks is.

Lance squints.

Hang on a second.

Is that flurexonomite?

He rewinds the video slightly, pausing it when he sees it again. He brings the phone close to his face, looking as closely as he can, and lets out a delighted little laugh when he sees it.

It is! It’s flurexonomite!

loverboy:

GET ME THAT ROCK

loverboy:

PLEASE

He screenshots the frame with the rock in it, circling it and sending it back.

loverboy:

THIS ONE

mullet-head:

are you serious

mullet-head:

i send you a video of this boring ass desert that i’m stuck in

mullet-head:

and you focus

mullet-head:

on a rock

mullet-head:

you massive nerd

Lance pouts, even though Keith can’t see it and feel properly guilty. That’s not fair. He’s not a nerd. Rocks are just cool! And he hasn’t been able to find flurexonomite, possibly the coolest of all space rocks that Coran has ever told him about, anywhere!

loverboy:

PLEASE JUST GET ME THE ROCK I WILL LOVE YOU FOREVER

mullet-head:

i cannot believe what i am reading with my own two eyeballs

mullet-head:

you

mullet-head:

who calls hunk and pidge a nerd every single day for any reason

Lance can’t help his defensive scoff.

“Everything okay, buddy?” Hunk asks, beyond amused. Lance shoves his phone in his pocket, or tries to, but he’s flustered, so somehow in his panic the phone goes flying out of his hand and onto the floor, face-up, messages clearly displayed.

Lance has never moved so quickly in his life.

He scrambles to the floor faster than he can even register he’s doing it, rolling right off the couch and throwing himself at the device. Unfortunately, Pidge reaches it first, scooping it up with a cackle and tossing it to Hunk.

“Read it out loud!”

“No!” Lance screeches, lunging after the device. Hunk is quick, though, standing on top of the cushions and holding the phone far out of his reach.

“‘Wish you were here, Dropout —’” he starts, gleeful.

“Stop! Shut up! That was a typo!” He attempts to climb Hunk to no avail; the man simply holding him away with one big arm. He’s not even struggling.

Lance knows how embarrassing some of those messages are. He cannot let them see the light of day. The time has come for drastic measure.

Somehow anticipating Lance’s impending violence, Hunk tosses the phone to Allura, who catches it easily and runs to the other couch.

“‘Saw someone dressed in all black on our last diplomatic mission and thought of your emo ass,’” Allura recites.

Lance screams, collapsing to the floor. He won’t be able to wrestle his phone away from her. She could kill him with a toothpick, probably.

He is doomed.

Allura clicks a few buttons and then laughs particularly evilly, making something ice cold shoots through Lance’s veins.

She hasn’t found his notes app, has she?

He can’t risk it. If anyone finds out what he’s written on there — oh, God, there are angsty song lyrics. About Keith. He is going to die. He is going to melt into a puddle of humiliated goo. This cannot happen.

With an ear-splitting war cry, he jumps to his feet, sprinting at her at tops speeds and tackling her to the ground. Before she can react, he yanks the phone from her hand and scrambles away at the speed of light. He dashes out of the common room before anyone can stop him, speeding to his room and locking the door behind him. He walks over to his bed and flops onto it, screaming into his pillow as loudly as he can, face the colour of a red star going supernova and just as hot.

“Every part of being alive is a prison,” he laments to no one. He vows to wallow in his own self-pity for all of eternity.

His phone buzzes.

He gets up to check it so fast he honestly has to take a moment to consider if being this gay is truly worth it.

mullet-head:

video.attachment

He brightens. Two videos in one day?!

Being this gay is worth it, apparently!

“You are truly the biggest nerd I know,” video Keith tells him solemnly. His indigo eyes are bright in amusement — soft, even. He takes two steps and then bends down — Lance keeps his eyes firmly on his friend’s face, he does, he does — and picks up the brown, dusty rock.

Lance heart skips a beat when he realizes it’s the exact right rock, the first time. Keith must have looked very carefully at the photo to get the right rock, for all his teasing. The rock is as tiny as a pinky nail, and it doesn’t exactly stand out.

God, Lance loves him so fucking much.

Video Keith slips the rock into his pocket. “You’re lucky you have me, you goober.”

The familiar banter makes Lance smile wider. It took he and Keith a long time and a lot of understanding to come to the point where they are now, the familiarity, the comfort he knows Keith must feel around him to let his guard down so blatantly, to be so transparently teasing and playful.

It makes his heart hurt, a little. He wishes there wasn’t a screen and a bajillion miles between them.

———

The worst part about the Blades, Keith thinks, is that there’s absolutely zero in between. He’s either bored out of his mind, polishing his sword while patrolling some random supply station, or he’s running for his life, barely making it out of an exploding Galra warship in time to keep all his limbs. There are no middle moments, no time for him to be anything but praying for death to at least put him out of his mind-numbing misery or praying to make it out of a situation alive. No family meals, no strange space mall supply runs, no training with Altean superhumans.

He misses his family.

But he knows he can’t go back. At least not permanently. He made this decision for a reason, and that reason is more important to him than a little bit of boredom or some measly mortal peril.

(Lance is more important to him than a little bit of boredom or some measly mortal peril.)

He sighs as he stares at the bunk above him, tracing the shadows of the bed for the zillionth time. He’s not tired at all, but there’s fuck else for him to do in between now and his next mission. He’s already trained all day today, and there’s only so much he can do with a sword before he wants to put it through his own head.

He misses training with a partner.

He shifts around, looking for his phone. It’s late, and he can’t text Lance — the dumbass is in a healing pod right now because he pulled a Keith and tried to fight a nine foot tall Galran commander with his own two hands to cover for someone — but maybe he can send him a couple messages, anyway. Just for when he wakes up.

It’s not like he has anything better to do.

He leans over as far as he feasibly can in his bunk, trying to reach his uniform. He manages to hook his finger around the sleeve, pulling it closer until he can reach his pocket. He thinks he left his phone in the right one, if he can just pinch the corner —

His hand runs over something small and rough, and he stills.

He pulls out a rock, and for a minute he’s confused — he just washed this thing and he’s been on base for three days, how the hell did a rock get in there — then it hits him.

He smiles. This is Lance’s dorky rock.

He leans back onto the mattress, holding the rock out in front of him. It sparkles slightly in the low light of the barracks, it’s many minerals catching the glow of the Balmeran crystals. It looks like a tiny little jewel in his hands, like a sparkling piece of amber.

Like Lance’s eyes.

Immediately he’s embarrassed with himself for thinking it. It’s so — it’s such a fucking gooey thing to think, to compare this sparking crystal to the deep brown of his teammate’s eyes. It’s not even the right brown, anyway. This rock is on the lighter side — Lance eyes aren’t as ambery orange. In the right shadowy lighting, they’re more of a black, so endlessly dark that you could lose yourself in them, that you could be swallowed right up in the look.

Not always, though. Keith lifts the rock up a little higher, holding it right in front of one of the crystals, and squints, letting his eyesight go blurry.

Once, when they were on a planet startlingly like Earth, Keith and Lance snuck off from a gala and ran to the beach to watch the sunset. Lance has smiled so wide, then, squishing his whole face, and when the golden rays of the settling sun had hit his eyes, they melted into a honeyed amber the exact same shade of the crystal. Keith remembers his mouth going dry, his mind going completely blank. He’d been so starstruck by the sight that he hadn’t even dared to breathe.

Lance had thrown sand at him for staring, and cackled as Keith cussed him out.

Keith pulls his blanket up to his chin, smiling. He closes his eyes, rhythmically rubbing the roughened crystal.

He falls asleep faster than he ever has before.

———

The castle is buzzing with excitement.

Most of its resident are too excited even for words. Breakfast is a mess, everyone bouncing in their seats, grinning so wide they can barely eat. Pidge inhales her food so fast she chokes. Hunk sporks himself in the nose, not paying attention.

It’s visiting day.

In less than two vargas, Keith is going to land a pod in the hangar, here to stay for two full days. One of those days will be a mission, sure, but after that they’ll have several hours to just hang out with their friend for a while, catch up, remember how much they miss him. It’s exhilarating.

They all gather in the hangar when he messages to say he’s close, practically vibrating in place. None of them speak, too pumped for words. They all watch the doors with wide eyes, reading to sprint the moment they open and Keith lands safely.

Only, one of them is too impatient to wait that long.

“Keith!” Lance cries, sprinting forward when the pod is a foot from the ground. Before the pod even lands, the hatch is thrown open, and Keith comes tumbling out, half falling to the floor.

“Lance!”

They crash into each other so hard it’s a miracle they manage to stay standing, embracing so tightly it has to be painful.

“You know, I was once married,” Coran remarks. “I went on a two-decaphoebe exploratory mission in that time. When I returned, I was not embraced that tightly.”

“That’s because you didn’t have an intensely homoerotic rivalry and then a weird half-friendship half-romantic relationship you refuse to acknowledge as such that racketed up your sexual tension to levels that cannot be recorded,” Shiro explains.

Four pairs of eyes blink at him.

“Nobody is as gay as they are,” he simplifies.

“Well, gay or not, I’ve lost patience. Lance does not get to hog all the Keith time, not on my watch.” Hunk marches towards the couple (couple of besties) and lifts them both off the ground in a hug that looks to have rearranged their spinal cords. “Keith! Buddy! We missed you!”

The rest of the team rushes in soon after, hugging and holding and generally just piling Keith with all the love they’ve pent up in his absence. Keith is bright red by the end of it, but visibly pleased, obviously flattered.

“I missed y’all too,” he says. “Seriously. Blades aren’t the same.”

With a herculean amount of strength, they manage to pull away to give Keith some space, heading towards the briefing room to prepare for their mission. They have a fleet to destroy, after all, and an Empire to cripple.

And, of course, the faster they complete their mission, the more time they can spend together with no obligations looming over their heads.

They debrief quickly, making sure not to miss any important information but determined not to dilly dally. They split up to suit up, then run off to their respective hangars, ready and rearing to go. Keith lingers for a second next to Lance.

“Good luck, Sharpshooter.”

Lance grins. “I don’t need it, Samurai. I’m going to kick your ass.”

“Wrong ass to be kicking, dontcha think?”

“Oh, shut up.”

“Keith, you’re with me,” Shiro reminds him, when neither fool looks to be focusing on the impending mission, gently knocking his brother’s shoulders.

Keith nods. “Yeah, coming.” He jogs away from Lance, flashing him one last smile. As he turns to corner, he pulls out the crystal from his pocket, gently pressing it to his lips before slipping it back where he got it.

“What’s that?” Shiro asks, gesturing to the pocket.

Keith looks shifty, like he was caught doing something he shouldn’t. “Uh, just a good luck charm.”

“Since when do you believe in luck?”

Keith shrugs. “Since I started feeling lucky, I guess.”

Far behind them, stopped to tie his bootlace, Lance stares at where the brothers disappeared into the Black Lion’s hangar, wide-eyed.

He recognises that rock.

———

Several hours later, six paladins dock back on the castle, exhausted but satisfied.

“Man, I missed having a full team. That mission was way less horrible than usual,” Pidge says.

“Indeed,” Allura agrees tiredly.

“Almost like we had a good luck charm,” Lance whispers to himself, too quiet for anyone else to hear.

Shiro smiles at them all. “You did great, team. This was by far the most successful mission we’ve had in months.” He turns his smile to Keith in particular, who grins right back. “We missed you, buddy.”

“Missed you too,” Keith murmurs.

“We’ll have plenty of time to catch up tomorrow,” Coran says. “Right now we are all exhausted. Off to bed, my dears.”

They all comply without protest, stumbling out of the bridge and down the halls to their rooms. Keith and Lance walk together. It makes Lance smile, remembering when they used to walk each other to bed, everyone else long asleep, stupid tired after a late night of planning. He doesn’t miss the stress, but he does miss leading with Keith, more than he’d like to admit.

“Hey, wait,” Keith says as they approach their bedroom doors, hand on Lance bicep to stop him.

“What’s up?”

“I, uh, have something for you.” He digs around in his pockets, looking panicked for a moment when he can’t find whatever it is he’s looking for, then visibly relieved when his fist encloses around it. He holds it out to Lance, who accepts it without question. Onto Lance’s palm he drops a sparking brown crystal.

“The flurexonomite,” Lance says, grinning.

Keith rocks back on his heels. “Yeah. I’ve been keeping it safe, you nerd.”

Lance looks up at him softly, unable to summon any playful exasperation at the tease. “Thank you, Keith.”

Keith smiles softly at him. “‘Course.” He puts his hand on his lockpad, opening the sliding door. “Night, Bluebell.”

“Goodnight, Willie Nelson.”

———

The next day is as crowded and energy-filled as expected. To avoid fights over Keith-time, the paladins had made a schedule: most of the day will be spent all together, but each person gets one designated hour of one-on-one time to do as they please. Keith gets dragged from person to person, blushing every time someone grumbles about not having enough time, from sparring with Shiro, swimming with Lance, and painting his nails with Allura.

He cries four separate times. It’s nice to remember how loved he truly is.

As days tend to do, however, it eventually comes to an end. Supper is a somewhat bittersweet affair, everyone knowing that once it’s over, Keith has to head back to his pod, and they won’t see him again for weeks, even months.

They try to make the most of it.

Hunk and Lance cook up something to honour the occasion, Pidge at the kitchen door with Lance’s gun to prevent Shiro, Coran, and Keith himself from so much as looking at the food so they don’t fuck it up somehow. Allura serves her solemn duty as taste-tester, ensuring all food is fit for a royal feast.

It’s amazingly thoughtful, even though Pidge is way too trigger happy. Keith cries again halfway through supper, and half the table joins him.

By the time the team walks him to his pod, they’re all pretty cried out, and determined to put on a happy face. They all hug Keith for way too long and with way too much force, each making him swear to call and text frequently, and to not do stupid things or get himself killed. Keith promises to do one of those things.

Eventually they all, with very knowing and smug looks, wave goodbye and head out, leaving Lance and Keith alone. Both pointedly pretend that they’re not embarrassed about it.

“I have something for you,” Lance says, when Shiro finally exits.

Keith glances at his gigantic care package of collective gifts from the rest of the team, raising an amused eyebrow. “Will I have space for it? The barracks at the Blade are small as shit, you know.”

Lance huffs a laugh, nervous smile pulling at his lips. “It’s, uh, pretty small. Promise.”

He takes a deep breath, steeling himself, then grabs something out of his pocket, holding his fist out to Keith. In his outstretched palm, a mirror of the night before, he drops a silver chain, attached onto a small —

A small, brown stone.

The flurexonomite.

“Good luck charm,” Lance explains quietly. He hesitates for a moment, then powers on. “And a piece of me to carry with you. If you want it.”

For a moment Keith gapes at the precious thing in his palm, the chain Lance must have made by hand sometime when Keith was hanging out with the rest of the team today. It’s simple, just the chain and the rock, but to Keith it’s more valuable than all the universe’ riches put together. To him it’s everything. To him it’s a message.

It is, without even a sliver of a doubt, a manifestation of Lance’s feelings for him. Of his feelings for Lance, too, having picked up the stone at all.

Keith decides to hell with the waiting. To hell with the war, with the consequences, with the long-distance. He grabs Lance’s face in his hands and kisses him as hard and fast as he has been wanting to for longer than he’s willing to admit.

“I fucking love you so much,” he mutters against soft, ful lips. He feels Lance’s smile.

“Yeah no shit, stupid. I gathered that when you kissed the rick I begged you to pick up for me before a mission, like it was a picture of your sweetheart in World War Two.”

Keith huffs, but can’t resist kissing him again. “Are you physically incapable of saying I love you back like a normal person, you dickhead?”

Lance laughs loudly enough to disrupt the kiss. “Yes.” A beat. “I love you too, mulletbrain. If that wasn’t abundantly clear.”

Keith smiles, kissing him one last time before pulling away. “It was.”

He lets Lance clasp the necklace around his neck, relishing in the touch of Lance’s cold fingers on his skin, committing the feeling to memory.

“I’ll miss you,” he says from the pilot seat. “I’ll call you.”

“If you don’t, I’ll fly Red to the Blades and kick your ass,” Lance informs him.

Keith feels like his heart is going to burst. “I don’t doubt it.”

When he finally takes off, castle shrinking to a dot behind him, the weight of his good luck charm around his neck makes leaving feel like less of a goodbye.

#look i love when they’re gay and stupid #vld #voltron #lance #lance mcclain #keith #keith kogane #klance #getting together #pining klance #pining keith #pining lance #blade keith #red paladin lance #team as family #takashi shirogane #coran #allura #pidge holt #hunk garret #fluff and humour #brown-eyed lance #autistic lance #whipped keith #whipped lance #my writing #fic #longpost #broganes